The Road Less Traveled at the End of the Line
by NarutoRox
Summary: To say Steve is surprised to wake up haunting his loved ones after sinking his plane into the ocean would be an understatement. To say he enjoys it would be just plain cruel. Being tied to his best friend - who is now a brainwashed HYDRA assassin - and Howard's son - who he's grown to love dearly - only make things slightly better. (WinterIron Bang 2015 entry - full summary inside)
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:**

To say Steve is surprised to wake up haunting his loved ones after sinking his plane into the ocean would be an understatement. To say he enjoys it would be just plain cruel.

For starters, there's the 'minor' problem of said loved ones being unable to see or hear him, which is bad enough. Things only get worse when he finds out Bucky is alive, but held prisoner by the very people he and Steve had fought against, leaving Steve to watch as HYDRA slowly tries to unmake his best friend. Then there's Tony, Howard's genius son, whom Steve loves dearly and may or may not be a little protective of after watching him grow up under Howard's less-than-stellar care.

Steve doesn't know if they keep him sane or drive him crazy, but he does know that Bucky and Tony are the two most important people in his world. He also doesn't know if it would make his life easier if they knew each other or not, but it doesn't matter; they've never met, are on opposite sides of the world, and other than being cared about by Steve, have nothing else to do with each other.

Until Tony is kidnapped by the Ten Rings…and HYDRA thaws Bucky for a mission…  
And Steve decides it's about time these two met.

 **Trigger Warnings:**

Implied major character death, brainwashing, non-graphic descriptions of torture and brainwashing, minor character death, canonical character death(s), depression, bad childhoods, canon-typical violence. 

**AN:** This was written for the 2015 WinterIron Bang over on tumblr. Believe it or not, it started as a minibang that should have only been around 7K words...*cough*

Most of the warnings are due to Bucky's time as the Winter Soldier and/or Tony's time in the Afghanistan, including the minor and canonical character deaths. These poor boys have lived tough lives. Also, though this takes place mostly around Iron Man 1, this contains spoilers for later movies as well.

This story would not be what it is without my awesome beta, so a very special thanks and a thousand hugs and kisses to _followthemuze_. (That one paragraph. *shudders*.)

Be sure to check out the link on my profile to see the awesome art that goes with the story by the very talented _fannishminded_! :D

* * *

 **~The Road Less Traveled at the End of the Line~**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Staring down at his body, Steve knows he should feel something. Afraid, hurt, angry, sad, hysterical, _something_. Instead, as he watches the ice slowly freeze around him - or at least, the him that is lying down on the floor of the plane, cold, motionless, and no longer breathing - he feels...nothing.

He knows, instinctually, that he's watching his final moments. That he's dying, or, given his current predicament, probably already dead, but rather than feel panicked, or scared, or any of the thousands of things someone should be feeling while they watch themselves die, he just feels an eerie sort of calm.

After all, he's done what he's set out to do, what he'd had to. He's brought the plane down, saved lives, made a difference. In the end, that's all that matters.

Besides, at least now he'll get to see Bucky again.

* * *

Standing in the middle of a briefing room back at base, Steve can't help but feel angry at the universe and whatever celestial powers that run it.

This is wrong, all _wrong_. He is dead, he _knows_ he's dead. He's supposed to be with his mother and Bucky again, not, not _this_. Not standing amongst the somber Howling Commandos back at base, invisible and unheard, and watching Howard Stark try to soothe Peggy as she cries softly into her hands.

Howard, too, looks like he wants to cry, even as he tries to fight it. Most of the Commandos don't bother - Gabe is swiping at his eyes futilely, and Dum-Dum has his hat off, turning it over and over again in his hands as if his life depends on it. Even gruff, unflappable Col. Phillips is clearly affected, standing slightly off to the side and making eye-contact with no one.

Standing amongst them, taking in their grief, their sorrow...it is wrong, it is heartbreaking, and it is just too much. Steve is the reason for their pain, and feels like a voyeur in their grief. He doesn't belong here.

"Aw, Peggy..." he whispers softly, bending down right in front of her and reaching out, a wave of guilt churning deeply in his belly for putting her through this. He stops short of actually touching her, remembering what happened when he'd first woken up in this form. He'd found himself in the control room of the same HYDRA camp he'd taken off from, confused and disoriented, with a very distraught Peggy. When it became apparent that she couldn't hear or see him he'd tried to touch her, and if realizing she couldn't see or hear him had hurt, realizing he couldn't even comfort her with a touch had been, well.

It had been a terrible feeling, and he isn't up to repeating it.

Grimacing and shaking himself out of the memory, he watches as Peggy hiccups softly, drying her tears on the handkerchief Howard had given her. She glances up, and because of where Steve is crouched it's as if, just for a second, she is staring right into his eyes.

His heart clenches painfully, a slow, hopeful yearning building in his chest - only to pummel when the moment is broken by Peggy standing abruptly, moving right _through_ him, and scanning the room for Phillips.

"We need, we need to go over what we found." she says, her voice only wavering slightly. Steve feels a surge of pride and affection towards her. "We should, he wouldn't have wanted -" She gulps, takes a deep breath, and graces the room with a stern look, letting everyone know they are currently faced with Agent Carter of the SSR, not Captain America's grieving sweetheart. "Steve wouldn't have wanted us to waste the opportunity. He wouldn't want us to put everything on hold for him. We owe him that."

There is a quiet murmur that carries through the room as everyone starts talking quietly, either to agree with Peggy or comment on the details of the mission, interspaced with soft words of comfort to each other. Steve watches, again feeling like an interloper. Everyone is trying set aside their grief and misery, determined to do their part and distract themselves from the pain...

Everyone except for Howard, standing quietly off to the side, staring into space with red-rimmed eyes.

Frowning, Steve makes a mental note to keep a special eye on him. After all (and he couldn't help but feel both guilty and bitter for thinking it), it isn't like he has anything better to do.

* * *

Steve honestly doesn't know where he goes or what he does when he isn't hanging around Peggy, Howard, or the Commandos. He just...wasn't, and then suddenly he'd come to awareness and find himself around one or more of his old companions. Peggy, Howard, the Commandos; Colonel Phillips, once or twice, and once even the kind, elderly woman who used to live next-door to him and Bucky.

At first Steve didn't know why he'd appear when he did. He was still feeling pretty distraught over the whole dead-and-haunting-the-world-of-the-living thing, after all, so he figured he could be excused for being a little slow on the uptake. But after observing them for a little while during his visits, he'd come to the slightly unpleasant and uncomfortable conclusion that he seemed to be heavy on the mind of whomever he was visiting. And somehow, that was drawing him to them.

The realization makes him feel even more guilty, because as time passed, his visits hadn't been getting more infrequent - especially in Howard and Peggy's cases.

Not that Steve even knows for sure how much time has passed; as it is, it's hard for him to really keep track, though he thinks it's been at least a few weeks since he'd sent his plane into the ocean. He isn't really sure, it could have easily been months or longer, and it's hard to tell with the...blackouts, as he is starting to call the phases of missed time he's experiencing.

He supposes it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. Days, months, years...they all blend together, and he is quickly discovering time is a fickle thing when you're dead.

He thinks he should probably find that more worrying than he does, but he has more pressing concerns.

Like being stuck haunting your old war buddies and sweetheart. And trying not to go crazy while watching said sweetheart and war buddies grieve, while one war buddy in particular seemed to run himself into the ground in his own particular brand of _not letting things go_.

Which brings Steve back to his current surroundings, watching Howard argue over the phone with someone about yet another likely fruitless trip out to where he thinks Steve's plane might have gone down.

Sighing and leaning against the oak desk Howard keeps in his study (two things that in Steve's opinion threw all logic out the window; he no longer even has a body to breathe with, and thinks it supremely unfair that he can apparently touch furniture but not people), Steve wonders yet again why Howard of all people is still taking this so hard.

Not that Steve hadn't been a little touched by Howard's dedication, at first. But what had started out as determination was rapidly becoming an obsession, and as much as Steve hates to admit it, it is all for nothing anyway. Steve is _dead_ , and has been for some time now.

With that thought in mind, Steve looks down at the newspaper Howard had left out on the desk. He feels a little jolt go through him when he realizes it has been much longer than he originally estimated - months longer. His mouth goes dry. It's been nearly a year.

Which made Howard's fanatic endeavor of searching for Steve that much more sad and frustrating. Howard has to know Steve is gone, and finding the plane with Steve's body in it at this point is going to do nothing but bring fresh hurt to Peggy and the others, not to mention Howard himself.

Feeling overwhelmed, Steve closes his eyes, trying to block out Howard's shouting. Experience told him it was probably going to be a while, so he's surprised when it gets quiet. When he opens his eyes he discovers it's because he's no longer in Howard's plush study.

Instead, he finds himself in a sterile, unfamiliar room with strange equipment piled on sleek metal shelves and against the walls. It smells like disinfectant, and when Steve takes a step back to better survey the room he sees several men in white coats looming around something on a metal table in the middle of the room. It almost reminds Steve of some of the sadder, more desperate hospitals from the war, but he still hesitates to call it an infirmary. A laboratory, maybe?

He takes another step closer to where the men with white coats are loitering, and realizes they are staring down at a man on the table. He starts wondering if the place is after all an infirmary, but the way the men are talking to each other with a sort of clinical detachment still makes him think otherwise.

He doesn't like it. It sets him on edge, and he still doesn't know why he's here.

Then there's a scream from the man on the table, and everything inside Steve freezes stone cold. In that moment he's certain that if he still had a heart beating in his chest, it would have stopped right then and there, because he knows that scream. It had haunted his nightmares when he'd still been alive, nightmares about what had been the worst moments of Steve's life: when Bucky had fallen from Zola's train. Sure, freezing to death had been horrible, but frankly, dying had hurt less than the gut-wrenching, stabbing pain he'd felt in his chest when that metal had broken and his oldest friend had fallen. Bucky's scream would haunt him to the end of - and now, apparently, beyond - his days.

That memory and the pain it brings come to Steve in sharp focus, yet it's nothing compared to the terrible mix of emotions he feels as he finds himself staring at Bucky - his best friend, his brother, his _Bucky_ \- strapped down in the gurney before him, howling in obvious pain and _very much alive_.

Immeasurable joy surges through him, because _Bucky is alive_ , but it's quickly squashed down by alarm and horror because something is very, very wrong.

For one, Bucky's screams are even worse than the one Steve remembers.

Steve surges forward - to do what, he doesn't know - and gets a better look at Bucky and the men around him. What he sees makes him sick.

Bucky is strapped down to the table, mostly naked, with thick, shackle-like metal digging into his exposed skin. Even so, he's still fighting against them, and some of the white-coated men have to hold him down to keep him from moving as other men put needles in him, press something to his left shoulder, where - oh Jesus, where Bucky's arm used to be. All the while, Bucky screams and cries out, and everything in Steve shatters into a million pieces when he realizes one of the things Bucky is crying is Steve's name.

"Get away from him!" Steve yells, furious, lunging forward to shove at one of the men holding Bucky down. He goes right through him, of course he goes right through him, he knew he would, but Steve tries again anyway, swinging and snarling and shouting, because he can't not do anything when they're still hurting Bucky. He doesn't stop trying to fight them until Bucky stops screaming.

Frantic, Steve shoves through another scientist until he's by Bucky's head, staring into his friend's eyes, which are glazed over with pain and whatever drugs the men were pumping into him. He's still mostly conscious, though, and lets out a whimper when one of the lab coats twists the metal-something on his shoulder. His breath is hitching and his cheeks are wet. Steve knows his are, too, and it's all he can do to not break down right along with Bucky.

"I've got you," Steve whispers, leaning forward until his forehead is nearly touching Bucky's. Bucky's eyes drift over as though they are meeting Steve's, and even though he knows Bucky can't actually see or hear him, he still feels a jolt.

"I'm here, and I'm with you 'til the end of the line." He feels helpless. There's nothing he can do, but…

"I'm going to get you out of here, Bucky." he vows. He doesn't know how, but he will. "I promise."

* * *

After that day Steve ends up spending most of his time with Bucky, though he doesn't know if it's because he now knows Bucky is alive or if it's because Bucky is thinking about him more. The fact that Bucky seems mostly out of it makes Steve think the former, which leads to Steve discovering that, if he concentrates hard enough, he can actually choose whom he visits. It's not much, and he still can find himself in someone else's presence without ever having thought of them, but it does mean he can choose to be with Bucky when Howard is too drunk or angry to be good company, or when being around Peggy is just too painful.

Not that being with Bucky isn't painful. The tortures that Bucky is being submitted to are agonizing to watch, and more often than not Steve finds himself hunched over or near Bucky with tears in his eyes and clogging his throat, whispering unheard words of comfort while listening to Bucky's whimpers.

Steve honestly didn't know if it is worse or better when they put Bucky in the cryochamber, either. On the one hand, the HYDRA technicians aren't poking and prodding at Bucky while he screams in pain. On the other hand, the cryochamber is a sick, twisted parody of a shelf to place unneeded tools on, sucking away even more of Bucky's ever-shrinking humanity every time they place him in it, like a project they could save for later. Either way he looks at it, Steve wouldn't wish the cold, harsh confines of the cryochamber on anyone but the HYDRA scientists that made it.

Yet even that cruelty dwindles in comparison to the mind-wipe. Bucky's screams during the process, as well as the blank, dead-eyed stare he gets afterward is a horror Steve had never imagined could be inflicted on a human.

Bucky doesn't say Steve's name any more; in fact, he rarely talks at all, and when he does, there is almost nothing in his voice of Steve's childhood friend. HYDRA is slowly taking away everything that is Bucky, breaking him and shaping him into something terrible for their own purposes, and while Steve wants nothing more than for Bucky to resist and fight back, the times he does are met with more pain and punishment than Steve can bear to see Bucky take. One day it takes three times on the machine before Bucky stops defiantly repeating his name and serial number, and while Steve can't help the swell of pride he feels in that moment, it's quickly beaten down by sick terror when, on the third try, the technicians continue until blood starts pouring out of Bucky's nose and he stops breathing.

There's guilty relief deep in Steve's chest that day when Bucky finally opens his eyes and docilely lets the guards lead him back to his chamber. And as sick as it makes Steve feel, it also leads to a darker, guiltier thought he'd been trying - and failing - to bury ever since: that Bucky might have been better off dying that day on Zola's train.

The thoughts only intensify when they start sending Bucky out on missions.

Steve tags along the first time they send him out, because like all the other tortures Bucky has had to endure, the least Steve can do is be there for him. Steve isn't sure of the exact details - Bucky's handlers had given him his instructions in Russian - but he picks up enough to know that Bucky is supposed to be eliminating a visiting diplomat with information considered dangerous to the organization's interests.

From the moment they take him out of cryo Steve tries to talk to Bucky, but of course Bucky doesn't know that. He barely talks or acknowledges anything outside his mission parameters anyway, and it isn't like this is anything new to Steve. They give him the best equipment and weapons, the best uniform, and a mask that could only be described as a muzzle. Bucky has been molded into the perfect tool, the perfect weapon for HYDRA, and Steve hates it.

Bucky gets into the diplomat's house and past his feeble security with ease, never pausing or hesitating in the slightest, his handlers right behind him. Steve stays with Bucky the whole time, and despises every minute of it.

Then the moment comes when Bucky has the man face down on a desk in his own study, a gun pressed to the back of the his head while he begs. The ice in Steve's stomach spreads, only to settle like lead when he looks up at Bucky, who is cold and unyielding, with no sign of his former self in his dead-eyed stare.

Steve can't take it anymore.

"Buck, don't." he whispers hoarsely. The man on the desk gives out another frantic, terrified cry that spurs Steve further. "You don't want to do this, Bucky, stop!"

To Steve's amazement, Bucky does.

He pauses, his eyes clearing and widening slightly, breath coming out faster and a little unsteadily. Steve's heart soars as Bucky pulls the barrel of the gun away from the man's head and takes a step back, because Bucky heard, he-

A shot rings out, loud even with the roaring in Steve's ears. The man is still lying across his desk, but now there is a neat little hole in his head.

Steve feels numb and hollow, and looks over at Bucky, who has a little scrunch between his eyebrows as though he is puzzling over something. The blankness is back in full force, however, when he lowers the gun and one of his handlers enters the room, barking something at Bucky in sharp Russian and marching back out.

Bucky follows him without a backward glance.

Steve stays in the room for a long time afterward. Alone but for the dead man in the room - the other dead man. Himself and the man on the desk. Two dead men. He feels a hysterical urge to laugh.

He tells himself he isn't mourning, because technically Bucky is still alive. But...but he is gone, replaced by whoever it is HYDRA has shoved in his place, and that...that's almost worse. Yet even as he thinks it he rebels against the idea, because it can't be entirely true.

He'd hesitated, damn it. It was only for a second, but he had hesitated, and Steve can only hope that means Bucky isn't entirely gone.

Even as Bucky gets sent out on more missions, and becomes an even better weapon than HYDRA could have ever dreamed, Steve tries to hold on to that.

* * *

Despite everything, life goes on for the rest of the world. Peggy, bless her, raises hell in all the places it matters. It leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth, but Steve's pleased to see she's also moving on. He cries right along with her when she pours the vial of his blood into the East River, and tells her she's making the right call even if she can't hear him. She finds someone to spend the rest of her life with, and he's happy for her, he is. But he also has to distance himself from her, because how can he expect her to move on if he doesn't?

Howard, too, has gotten married, to a beautiful bride scandalously younger than him, and Steve hopes Maria will help with how bitter and self-absorbed Howard is becoming. His unhealthy obsession with finding Steve still hasn't abated after all these years, and ever since Howard had found that damn cube while looking for Steve, Steve has been concerned with what he's going to do with it. Howard may mean well, but he's chaotic at best. Maybe Maria's presence will stabilize him.

Bucky goes on more missions, and gains a reputation as the ghost story whispered after dark. People start calling him 'The Winter Soldier', and if it weren't so sick and awful Steve would laugh at the twisted irony of it all. He may have been the one that froze to death in the literal sense, but the cold grip of HYDRA has stolen Bucky's life in ways much worse than Steve's. Neither he nor Bucky had ever asked for any of this.

Steve is so very, very tired. Tired of watching without ever being able to do anything. Tired of seeing everyone and everything change while he remains frustratingly in place. Tired of being unable to help Bucky, despite his promise all those years ago. Tired of being….tired, and unable to just close his eyes and rest.

Steve is tired, heartsick, and losing hope, and there is nothing he can do about it.

That is until May 29, 1970.

* * *

Steve is at Bucky's side again when he feels the familiar pull. He can tell it's Howard, but Bucky is in cryo at the moment and he hasn't been to see Howard in a while anyway, so, with one last glance at the cryochamber window, Steve gives in and allows himself to be pulled to Howard's side.

He is entirely unprepared for the sight that greets him.

Howard is standing in a hospital hallway, Peggy and a man Steve recognizes as Howard's butler, Edwin Jarvis, at his side. All are looking into an observation window with varying looks of awe and delight on their faces, even Howard, who is actually _beaming_ and looking happier than Steve has seen in years.

Curiosity piqued, Steve wanders over to see what all the hubbub is about, and catches the tail-end of Howard's conversation with Peggy.

"-that's him, in the middle with the dark hair. A chip off the old block, eh?"

Steve looks in, and is glad for once that no one can see him so he doesn't have to hide the surprise he feels.

Of all the things he'd been expecting, a hospital nursery filled with newborns is not one of them. With a jolt Steve realizes that one of the babies must be _Howard's_. He hadn't even known Howard and his wife were expecting, and thinks guiltily that he should have visited more often. His eyes roam over to the one Howard had pointed out.

Steve is unable to fight the flush of warmth that goes through him. He - it's a he, Howard called it a him, didn't he? - looks so _tiny_ , like his entire body would fit into both of Steve's hands with room to spare, and he's wiggling a little, and Steve finds himself smiling broadly without even realizing it. That alone makes him marvel - he can't remember the last time he had smiled - and he basks in it until the little guy moves his arm, sending another round of warmth through him. He can barely hear what the others were saying over his own internal fawning.

"Howard, he's beautiful." Peggy says, cooing into the glass. Steve wholeheartedly agrees. Even though Howard's baby doesn't really look any different than the other babies in the nursery, Steve still thinks he's the prettiest. He might be biased.

Peggy turns away from the glass to smile at Howard, not as brightly as before but no less fond. "Steve would have liked to meet him." she says softly, startling Steve into turning from the baby to look over at Howard.

One glance at his face, and Steve knows exactly why he's there.

"Yeah," Howard says, confirming Steve's suspicion and returning Peggy's smile, though with more sadness. "I thought the same thing."

Peggy clears her throat before Steve can start feeling too uncomfortable, turning her attention back to the sleepy infant. "How's Maria doing?" she asks, waggling her fingers against the glass.

"Fine - well, tired." Howard amends. He chuckles. There's a nervous energy about him Steve has only ever seen after a particularly successful project has been completed. "She's resting. Anna's with her now."

The baby starts wiggling some more, and Steve checks out again for a full minute until Peggy's voice breaks him out of his spell.

"Well?" she demands. "Are you going to bloody tell me yet, or are you going to keep me in suspense?" She sounds stern, but there's a smile in her voice. She might actually be smiling, too, Steve isn't really sure. He doesn't take his eyes off the baby to see. When Howard doesn't answer right away, she swats him on the arm. "His name, Howard! What's his name?!"

"I thought old age was supposed to mellow you." Howard complains, rubbing his arm. He raises both arms in surrender at the look Peggy gives him. "Alright alright, jeez! Peggy Carter, meet Anthony Edward Stark." He chuckles again, and lowers his arms. "Maria's been calling him Tony."

As if sensing people are talking about him, Tony starts wiggling more and fussing. Steve is gratified to see he's not the only one affected when both Jarvis and Peggy start making little cooing noises and trying to talk to him through the glass. Without even thinking about it, Steve finds himself suddenly standing beside Tony's crib.

Steeling himself, Steve looks into the crib and locks eyes with a little bundle with wispy dark hair, and is man enough to admit that everything inside of him goes warm and squishy.

He doesn't think twice about it. He places his hand inside the crib, right over Tony's little tummy, and says, "It's okay, little guy. You're safe here."

To his amazement, Tony calms instantly. Steve looks down at his hand; it nearly spans Tony's whole torso - are all babies this small? - and he imagines he can feel the warmth coming off of him. He thinks about moving, but decides against it. He knows it's probably a coincidence and he hadn't actually calmed Tony, but he would take the illusion while he could.

Tony lets out a little squeak, and Steve's heart positively melts.

"Hello Tony," he whispers, crouching down to smile at him. "I'm Steve."

From then on Steve's life - well, afterlife - changes forever.

* * *

Steve visits Tony often. It doesn't matter if it is naptime and Tony is sleeping, or if he is bright-eyed and gurgling, or having an off night and screaming bloody murder - Steve is there, and knows he feels better for it. He can't quite explain it, but there's a lightness to him every time he sees little Tony; almost as if all the weight of what is happening to Bucky lessens a bit in his presence. So Steve visits Tony, and feels a little less lost and heartsick when he does.

Some days he just sits vigil by Tony's crib while he's sleeping. If Tony is awake, he lets his hand hover over his tummy and chest like he did at the hospital, and makes silly faces at him. Some days he talks to him, tells him stories; not war stories, but the stuff he and Bucky used to get up to before the war and when they were kids.

One night Tony has a bout of colic, crying and setting everyone's nerves on edge. Steve stays with him the whole time, whispering soothing words and trying to comfort him, placing his hands around him, and humming a mixture of the lullabies he had heard Anna sing as well as the ones he remembers his mother singing to him when he was little.

He knows Tony can't actually hear him, but still. For his own peace of mind he likes to imagine Tony is reacting to his voice, and it makes him feel better.

Until he starts to wonder if he isn't imagining things after all.

As Tony gets older, he's becoming more aware of his surroundings, as healthy babies do. He tries to move his head when people talk to him, tracks them with his eyes when they move in his line of sight. Smiles for the first time when Jarvis makes a particularly thrilling sound during a game of peek-a-boo. Coos and gurgles when people talk to him. Tony is learning to interact with his surroundings, and though it's adorable, it's also driving Steve a little crazy, because he swears sometimes that he is one of the things Tony is trying to interact with.

So Steve waits until late one evening when everyone is gone and Tony is alone and wide awake in his crib, determined to test his theory out. He's more nervous than he's felt in years, and a part of him doesn't want to try now that he has gotten his hopes up. He doesn't want to think about what he's going to do if he's wrong, but he has to know. So he takes a deep breath, peers into Tony's crib, and blows a raspberry at him.

Tony giggles. And _reaches_ for Steve.

Steve feels tears prick his eyes. He smiles around them anyway, and for the first time in years looks into the eyes of someone who returns his gaze. "You really can see me, can't you, little guy?"

Tony gives him a gummy little grin in response, and Steve, happier than he's felt in ages, rewards him by blowing another raspberry. Tony laughs again, and tomorrow Steve will feel guilty for keeping him up all night when Maria and the nannies complain about Tony being fussy, but for now, just for a little while, all is right with the world.

* * *

Even though Steve has appointed himself Tony Stark's personal guardian angel, he still splits his time between Bucky and Tony. Bucky can't interact with him like Tony can - still can't see or hear him out of cryo, let alone in it, for that matter - but that doesn't stop him from talking to him, so he tells Bucky all about Tony and all the little milestones he's accomplished. He knows he sounds like a gushing parent, but he can't help it; Tony is alive in a way he and Bucky aren't, and he figures Bucky could use the normalcy anyway.

"You'd love him, Buck, he's so sweet. Smart, too, I can tell. Just wait until you hear what he did yesterday…"

* * *

In a similar vein, Steve continues to tell Tony stories from the good old days, and isn't really surprised with himself when they predominantly feature Bucky.

"So there we are, soaked to the bone, and I'm madder than a wet cat about it, too. But Bucky just rolls his eyes and goes 'Well, Rogers, you're the one that wanted to see if it'd float!', and I must've been a sight, because he gets a good look at me then and just doubles over laughing…"

* * *

"He's starting to talk now, and you won't believe what he said today. 'Ebe'. He was looking right at me when he said it - he knows my name now, Bucky!"

* * *

"...and I grab the cushion and hit him with it, but of course that just makes the whole fort fall over, so we end up wrestling under a pile of sofa cushions until Ma finds us with me sitting on him, and I don't think I've ever seen Bucky quite that sheepish…"

* * *

Tony is three - just a few months shy of his fourth birthday, actually - when Howard finds out about his 'imaginary friend Steve'.

"What do you mean, you're playing with Steve?" Howard asks, and Steve can tell by his tone that this isn't going to end well.

He'd been playing a memory game with Tony, which in itself wasn't out of the ordinary; Steve liked it because he could actually play with Tony by letting him flip the cards he indicated over, and Tony liked it because Steve was the only one who actually offered him a challenge, thanks to Steve's serum-induced eidetic memory. They sometimes played checkers or chess in much the same fashion, but that was only if someone left either board out in the living room, since Tony couldn't reach them on their shelves ordinarily.

Tony had just made a match of red firetrucks and was excitedly telling Steve all he knew about them when Howard, whom Steve hadn't noticed was standing in the doorway, asked who Tony was talking to. Tony, being the honest little toddler he was, had told him.

And, as expected, Howard doesn't take it well. Steve is disappointed, but unsurprised.

"He is real, he is!" Tony yells for what must be the fifth time, face scrunched up in a mixture of indignation and distress. His and Howard's voices have been getting steadily louder over the last ten minutes, with Howard becoming angrier the more Tony insisted on Steve's existence.

Steve feels like punching Howard, because nobody should be reacting this way to their three-year-old's supposed imaginary friend. He wants to think it's because of Howard's issues with Steve, and it's Tony accurately describing Steve himself in detail that's setting him off, but has the feeling Howard would still be acting this poorly if Tony was insisting on any 'imaginary' person.

"Think about it, Tony!" Howard shouts back, face red. "If he were real, you wouldn't have to touch the cards for him! Can you touch him at all? Can he pick things up for you? He's a figment of your imagination, and one you're too old for!"

Tony's lower lip wobbles, and Steve's heart sinks when he sees Tony considering Howard's words; he's still young enough to think his father has the answers to everything, even if it directly contradicts what's in front of him, and if Howard says Steve isn't real…

Like a nail in a coffin, Howard finishes his rant.

"Face it, Tony, he doesn't exist!"

With that Howard stomps off, leaving Tony alone with Steve to fall on the floor and sob, tears falling freely while his little fists rubbed furiously at his eyes.

Steve had been quiet once Howard had come in, figuring trying to talk to Tony might do more harm than good, considering the fight was about him. But once Howard leaves he bends down in front of Tony, settling his hand near Tony's head.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, feeling furious with Howard and wishing more than anything he could give Tony a hug.

"H-how come no one else can see you?" Tony sniffles, peeking up at Steve around his hands.

Steve grimaces. In the time he has known Tony, that had never been brought up; he honestly thought Tony had never noticed. Jarvis and most of the nannies tended to consider Tony's constant babbling to himself a cute quirk, and indulged him when he mentioned Steve directly. "I don't know, Tony, but-"

"And how come you can't touch anything?" Tony adds, wide-eyed and scared. "Is Daddy right? Are you all in my head?"

Steve's stomach drops. "Tony, no-"

He doesn't get a chance to say anything else before Tony launches himself right at Steve, clearly intending to wrap his arms around his neck; instead, Tony falls right through Steve to land face-flat on the floor.

Tony turns around and gives Steve the most betrayed look he's ever seen from the boy, then bursts into tears.

Jarvis scrambles in a few minutes later, scooping Tony up and trying to soothe him with promises of Anna's cookies. The look Tony gives Steve over Jarvis's shoulder as they leave is the saddest, most heart-breaking thing Steve has ever seen from him.

Furious, Steve blinks himself to Howard's side, wanting to give him a piece of his mind and not caring if he can hear him or not.

He's in his study, a drink already in hand, and Steve is pleased to see Maria is with him, looking just as happy as Steve feels.

"It's my fault, I never should have told him those stories about Steve." Howard tells her, knocking back more than half the glass.

Maria sighs and leaves the room, apparently not any more keen on dealing with Howard drunk than he is, which is fine by Steve. He wouldn't be comfortable saying some of the things he wanted to say to Howard in front of a lady anyway.

* * *

That day is a turning point in Steve and Tony's relationship. Try as he might to prove his reality to Tony, Howard's words had done their damage. Though Tony's gaze would still jump to Steve's when he entered a room, and he would still react to Steve's voice and listened when he talked, he doesn't talk to Steve as much anymore. As smart as Tony is, he's still a child, and by his child's logic if Daddy says it then it must be true. Thus, with Howard's active discouragement, Tony starts interacting with Steve less and less.

By the time Tony's fifth birthday rolls around, he can no longer see or hear Steve.

Steve is sad, and more furious than ever with Howard and what will become just one of the many instances of his less-than-stellar parenting, but he doesn't stop looking after Tony as he grows up.

He also doesn't stop telling him stories, even if Tony can't hear him anymore. Some habits are hard to break.

* * *

"He's made a robot, Buck. An honest-to-God robot. It's only got one arm, and honestly makes more trouble than it helps with, but it's still a sight. You'd like it, just like Tony. I swear, the older he gets the more he reminds me of you, you're like peas in a pod. Like last week, when he..."

* * *

Steve wishes more than anything that he could look away.

The car Bucky had just crashed, the car is _Howard's_.

And now Bucky is walking towards it, gun in hand, looking to _finish him off_.

Steve wants to shout, wants to let out a warning, wants to tell Bucky to stop, but his voice is frozen in his throat, and neither Howard nor Bucky would hear him anyway.

Bucky stops at the driver's side of the car. Steve doesn't want to step any closer, doesn't want to see. He'd witnessed HYDRA force Bucky to kill so many people already over the years, he doesn't want to add his former friend to the list.

He forces himself to anyway.

He doesn't remember making himself go to Bucky, but he does. There's a dull, sick weight in his stomach as he takes in the sight before him. He thinks of Tony, safe and oblivious at MIT, and wants to feel comforted by the fact that he at least is not here with his parents.

Howard is dead, killed on impact. Maria, however, is still alive, whimpering and crying softly, bleeding and unable to get free. Steve almost wishes she weren't, because he knows what comes next.

Sure enough, Bucky walks over to her side of the car, gun raised. Steve bends over, arms over his middle, and thinks of Tony, preparing to go to him because he can't watch this, his best friend is going to murder Tony's mother, and he can't-

"H-howard?" Maria cries. "Tony? Tony!"

Steve jerks his head up, because he _knows_ Tony isn't in the car, oh God, don't let Tony be in the car-

He isn't. Steve doesn't know why Maria said his name, but she's hurt and has a head injury, and must be thinking of her son. That's not what keeps Steve staring, though, because Bucky, Bucky-

Bucky has dropped his gun and is backing up, his eyes wide and horrified and more _Bucky_ than Steve has seen in years.

"T-tony?" he repeats, and then, to Steve's shock, "Stevie?"

Steve stands there, uncomprehending, until Bucky falls to his knees. He clutches his head, eyes darting around in panic. "St-Stevie? What, wha-"

He pitches forward and screams, then, loud enough to make Steve's ears ring and Bucky's handlers come running. Steve hovers by his side, trying not to panic - can Bucky _see him_? - until one of the handlers gets to him. Steve wants to tell him to go away and leave Bucky the hell alone, but he doesn't have to - Bucky shoves him away, sending him flying backwards several feet and smacking into another one. Several more men materialize seemingly out of nowhere and try to detain him, but are given much the same treatment, even if Bucky is fighting with the grace of a wounded animal instead of his normal finesse.

Finally one of the goons wisens up enough to use his gun instead of approaching Bucky. Steve feels everything in him stop dead when the guy shoots Bucky not once, but _four times_.

Steve falls to his side and feels like crying when he sees darts instead of bullet holes, and is momentarily grateful Bucky is more valuable to HYDRA alive than dead. They also don't seem to want to take their chances, though, because every single able-bodied person who is left descends upon Bucky despite his unconsciousness, loading him up into the van that pulls up only after putting several more tranquilizers and every pair of restraints they have on him.

Steve watches them go, completely shell-shocked and unable to make sense of the situation. With a jolt Steve remembers Maria and what she had said, and hastily makes his way back over to the Starks' car. There's a sharp pang when he gets there and sees that she has already passed, and again he thinks of Tony, who will soon be getting the news that he's an orphan.

Steve can't look at Howard again. He hadn't agreed with his choices or how he'd handled things with Tony, but he'd still been Steve's friend, once. And Maria...Steve had liked Maria. She didn't deserve this. Neither of them did.

He steps away, regret deep in his bones, and decides to focus on the situation at hand:

Bucky had remembered.

Bucky had remembered _Steve's name_ , had called out for him, right after Maria had cried out for Tony.

The gears starts turning in Steve's head. There's no reason for Bucky to react to Tony's name, no reason for him to even know who Tony is, and yet hearing his name somehow triggered a break in years of HYDRA programming, made him think of Steve. It could be that 'Tony' sounded close enough to 'Stevie' to make Bucky think of it, but it had been something else, something more...

Steve thinks back to all his stories to Bucky, all those tales about Tony and his life over the past years. Hours of sitting by Bucky's side, telling him about the other most important person in Steve's existence, always assuming Bucky couldn't hear him, but telling him all about Tony anyway.

Steve feels hope bloom in his chest. Perhaps Bucky had been able to perceive more than Steve thought.

* * *

"What happened?" one of the HYDRA technicians asks later while they hook Bucky up to the machine Steve so deeply hates. "It's like he completely snapped."

"Something interfered with his programming." the head technician replies, gritting his teeth over the mission report Bucky's handlers had given him. The hope Steve had felt earlier grew. He was _right_.

The first technician shakes his head, eyeing Bucky warily. "What happens if he does it again?"

"He won't."

"But-"

"Wipe him."

Steve can't bring himself to stay and see how many times it takes, this time - Tony needs him right now, too.

* * *

More years pass, and Bucky doesn't have another breakdown like the night the Starks died, but he does falter twice more on mission. One time it's at the mention of robots, and the other is again a reaction to hearing the name 'Tony'. Both times aren't enough for the handlers or technicians to notice, but Steve does.

He doesn't stop telling Bucky about Tony. In fact, his stories get more detailed.

* * *

Steve is in the middle of telling Bucky about the time Tony had convinced Rhodey that yes, he could too build a machine that both toasted and spread creamcheese on a bagel from the spare parts of a lawn mower, easy peasy, when he feels a sharp pain in his chest, like a vise gripping it.

 _Tony_ , he thinks, feeling a pull towards him along with the pain. He squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates on him, letting himself go and trying not to let the panic clawing it's way up his throat overtake him. Something is definitely wrong, he can feel it.

When he opens his eyes he is in a bright desert, and Tony is lying on the ground, a dark red stain spreading across his shirt.

He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what's happening, but he's pretty sure he dies a second time when he notices Tony isn't breathing.

* * *

Tony is alive, amazingly, but barely. Steve stays with him when the Ten Rings goons pick him up and take him back to their base, when they drop him off in the dingy cave and bark orders at a man in glasses in a language he doesn't understand. He doesn't leave Tony's side when the man - Yinsen - starts performing surgery on him.

Steve can't watch what Yinsen is doing to Tony's chest, so he keeps his eyes on Tony's face, instead. Because of that, he notices Tony waking up before Yinsen does.

Tony jerks, panicked, and gasps for air, eyes unfocused.

"Wha? H-hurts, hurts!" he choked out, flinching. "W-wha..?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. It will be over soon." Yinsen says, and Steve knows he's lying just from the desperation in his voice.

"-o, can't-" Tony mumbles, then jerks again to lock eyes with Steve. "S-Steve? H-help…"

Tears prick Steve's eyes. Tony hasn't talked to him in almost thirty-five years, and he doesn't know now if it's delirium or something else, but he doesn't care; Tony needs him, and Steve would do everything in his power to help.

"I'm here, Tony." Steve chokes, leaning forward until his forehead is resting over Tony's and placing his hand over Tony's chest, like he did when he was little. "I've got you, it's okay." Steve squeezes his eyes shut, remembering another brunet laying on a table in pain while he hovered over him, unable to do anything.

It's the exact same, it's always the same. With Bucky, and Tony, or, hell, even Howard. It's always the same story. Steve can't do anything to help them, and has to stand by and watch them be hurt.

Well, no more.

"I'm here, and I'm with you 'til the end of the line." he whispers hoarsely. The knuckles of the hand he has on the table are white. "And I swear, I'm going to find a way to get you out of here."

Tony's breath rattles and then stops. Steve has a flash of panic before he realizes Tony has just passed out again. He chokes on a relieved sob, then glares at Yinsen.

"You had better do everything you can to make sure he lives." Steve growls at him. He doesn't respond, but Steve hadn't expected him to.

Steve keeps vigil by Tony's side throughout the procedure and afterward, just like he did when Tony got sick when he was little. He doesn't move, doesn't so much as twitch until Tony wakes, and his relief to see Tony up and talking outweighs any disappointment at Tony being unable to see him again.

As Yinsen explains the electromagnet in Tony's chest, Steve thinks about the plan he'd been formulating while Tony was out. He doesn't know precisely how much time has passed, but the next mission HYDRA had lined up for Bucky either meant he had recently been or was about to be let out of cryo.

He doesn't know if this is going to work, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try.

Stepping closer to Tony, Steve brushes a hand through his hair, not caring if neither of them could feel it.

"Please don't die yet, Tony. There's someone I still want you to meet."

* * *

Sure enough, Bucky is out of cryo and being prepped for the mission when Steve returns to him. Steve is relieved. He isn't sure if he can handle waiting right now.

He waits until Bucky and his crew have loaded up into the helicopter HYDRA prepared for them to start talking to Bucky so the handlers and technicians won't drown him out.

"Alright, Buck. You remember Tony, right? The guy I've been telling you about?"

There's no response, but Steve plows on.

"Right, well. He's in trouble. Big trouble. I don't know if he can make it out on his own, and I'm…" Steve lets his breath come out in one long, frustrated rattle. "I'm useless, Bucky. I can't do anything. But he needs help."

Bucky still doesn't move, doesn't react, other than to lean to the side a little when the chopper starts to touch down.

"Bucky, please. I know I'm getting through to you, one way or the other." Steve says as Bucky and his handlers disembark the chopper. "Maybe you can't hear me all the time, or even at all, but I know you are getting _something_ from me."

Bucky gives nothing away as he calmly checks the ammo on his gun. Desperation setting in, Steve can't help his shout of frustration.

Bucky marches on through the empty side streets, two of his handlers in tow. Steve has no idea how much ground they have covered before Bucky darts into an alley with discarded papers and garbage lined up along the sides.

Steve feels a flash of pure rage when he sees a newspaper with the headline 'TONY STARK MISSING IN AFGHANISTAN' at the top of the nearest overflowing garbage can, and gives into his fit of temper, kicking it. His foot goes right through the can, just like he knew it would, but a cat lets out a furious hiss and darts from behind it, knocking the can over. The newspaper flies out with the rest of the garbage and catches on the wind, hovering a few feet to smack into Bucky.

Bucky peels the newspaper off of himself while the two goons that are with him go check out the noise. One walks to the end of the alley where the cat ran off while the other stays behind to investigate the knocked-over can, but Bucky just stands there, staring at the newspaper. Even after the men come back, Bucky keeps staring at it. And keeps staring at it.

Steve's metaphorical heart-rate picks up. _Bucky is staring at the headline_.

When he looks up from the paper, Steve sees the blank glance of the Winter Soldier replaced by a look of confusion.

"Bucky, come on." Steve begs, getting into Bucky's personal space and looking straight into his eyes. "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You've been my best friend since we were kids. I've been haunting you for almost seventy years, and telling you about Tony for nearly half that time." Steve watches as Bucky's face starts to go blank again, dread pooling in his stomach.

"He needs you, Buck. I can't help him, but you can." Steve pleads softly, bowing his head. It isn't going to work. Bucky couldn't hear him, couldn't help -

"This man...who is he?"

Steve's head shoots up. Bucky is holding the newspaper out to one of his handlers, face still blank but eyes narrowed once again in confusion.

The handlers both exchange nervous glances.

"Nobody, just a guy." one of them finally says gruffly, hand flicking to his gun. "Let's stick to the mission."

"But I know him." Bucky says. Steve's knees go weak.

"No, you don't." says the handler, then turns to his fellow agent. "Something's wrong, he's not supposed to be acting this way."

"But I _know_ him," Bucky insists, speaking over whatever the handler was going to say next.

Both handlers freeze, and then one starts reaching for his gun.

He never gets the chance. Bucky slugs him across the face with the gun in his own hand, turning and slamming the second man's head into the wall before he can react. A cry goes up from the rooftop above them, but Bucky has his rifle up and firing a shot before whoever it is could so much as pull the trigger. Steve hears footfalls at the end of the alley, the rest of the crew coming to see what's wrong.

Bucky scowls in that direction, and gets a better grip on his rifle.

HYDRA sent a total of ten men with Bucky on this mission. It takes him less than a minute to dispatch them all.

Steve knows he should feel bad about Bucky adding ten more to the list of people he'd killed, but can't really bring himself to care.

Once it's over Bucky frowns, taking in the carnage around him, then calmly makes his way back over to the discarded newspaper to pick it up.

He looks down at it for a few minutes, squinting at the picture of Tony that went with the headline.

"Tony Stark." he says aloud, face pinched. "Afghanistan..."

He looks around the alley again, then pulls off his mask. Steve watches him toss it carelessly to the ground and leave the alley. He skulks along for several blocks before casually grabbing a hoodie off someone's railing, followed by a cap from someone's dozing head when he gets to the bus station.

It isn't much, but it's a start.

* * *

As it turns out, Tony doesn't need any outside help to escape from his kidnappers.

Without any assistance from the outside world, Tony gains an arc reactor in his chest, builds a suit, raises hell, shoots most of his captors and _flies_ himself out of the Ten Rings camp, and kicks up enough of a ruckus for Rhodey and the army to take notice and find him.

Steve doesn't know whether to be proud or terrified.

Yinsen dies, though, and Steve feels his loss almost as much as Tony does. He was a good man, helped Tony when Steve couldn't, and Steve will remain forever grateful to him. Tony, he thinks, will hold onto him and his last words - "Don't waste your life, Stark." - for the rest of his life.

Tony holds a press conference and tells the world he's no longer making weapons. Most people assume Tony has lost it and aren't pleased; Obadiah is furious, and Steve is still caught between pride and fear for Tony.

Tony's life has changed forever, and while Steve can't yet tell, he hopes it will be for the better.

He wishes he could say the same for Bucky.

In the three months since Bucky had slipped HYDRA's leash, he's been all over the place, figuratively and literally. At first Steve could tell he'd had every intention of plowing straight into Afghanistan, though Steve isn't sure exactly how, but three days into his freedom he'd just...stopped.

Stopped and, completely confused, started making his way _back_ to the nearest HYDRA base. Steve had a good twelve hours freakout before Bucky seemed to have snapped out of it and started making his way southwest instead, and then Steve had no idea what he was doing. Steve would come back from staying with Tony for a few days, and Bucky would almost never be in the same place Steve had left him.

He'd traveled north again and wandered for a few days - then an entire week of being confused in Chicago before moving down to New Mexico and having another breakdown happen. He'd tried going back to another HYDRA base in Miami, killing the two HYDRA agents that had found him there, then went back out west again. There were two more breakdowns before he again saw Tony in the news and made his way down to Mexico. Steve's fairly sure he'd been very close to stealing a plane there but something had spooked him, turning him northward, before he could.

Rinse, wash, and repeat. Between Tony's captivity and Bucky's breakdowns, Steve had had a very stressful three months.

Bucky is still in Mexico, in a town right along the Mexican-US border, when Tony's press conference is shown on the news. He's eating in a little dive bar with a television in the corner when they play it, and the second Tony's name is mentioned his head shoots up, eyes narrowed at the TV in razor-sharp focus.

He watches the whole story, face full of concentration, then leaves the bar.

Steve watches him go, worry and anticipation churning unpleasantly in his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Bucky makes surprisingly good time to Malibu. How he knows Tony's exact address Steve isn't sure, but it brings unpleasant implications about HYDRA's information regarding Tony, so Steve shoves it away for now.

He's more alarmed by how easily Bucky gets into Tony's workshop anyway, considering Tony's security measures.

Tony is, too, considering the amount of swearing that comes out of his mouth when he calls for JARVIS to turn the lights on and sees Bucky sitting on his couch.

"What the fuck are you doing down here?!" Tony yelps. "JARVIS, how the hell did he get down here!?"

"I did try to tell you, Sir." JARVIS's usually pleasant tones reply, though Steve notes that he sounds perturbed at the moment. Steve had heard Tony's rapid-fire speech upstairs, and guessed either the A.I. had been unable to get a word in edgewise, or Tony had just been disregarding him.

Tony swears some more and takes a step back when Bucky stands up, but he looks more angry than scared. Bucky swallows and wobbles a little, his eyes losing some of their focus.

"Are you...Tony Stark?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

Tony's eyes narrow suspiciously. Steve finds himself standing between the two, though a step back so he doesn't have to feel them looking at each other through him. He'd been imagining this moment for years, and yet now that it's happening he doesn't know what to think.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" Tony snaps brusquely, jaw set. "Who the hell are you?"

"I don't know," Bucky whispers, too quiet for Tony to hear, before his eyes roll back into his head and he collapses.

"Holy shit," Tony yelps, darting forward to grab Bucky before he could brain himself on the nearest workbench. He half-succeeds in the sense that he does keep Bucky from hitting his head, but the rest of him just falls to the ground in a crumpled heap.

"Okay, yeah, so that just happened," Tony says, looking around helplessly. His eyes catch Dum-E making its way curiously around the couch, and he motions for the bot to come closer.

"Dum-E, come here a minute and help me get this lug on the couch. Uh, J? You wouldn't happen to know who my crazy admirer here is, would you?" Tony asks, pulling on Bucky's arms. "Or how he even got in?"

"He appears to have found a blind spot in my security, Sir." JARVIS answers, still sounding unhappy. "As for who he is, my search has been inconclusive. Shall I call the authorities?"

"No!" Steve blurts, panicked. Taking Bucky in to the police or the FBI would be the fastest way to announce to HYDRA where he is, not to mention all the collateral damage Bucky could cause from people trying to detain him. "Tony, you can't!"

"Huh," Tony says, sitting back on his haunches when he and the bots finally get Bucky up onto the couch. "When you say inconclusive…?"

"I can find no record of anyone matching his description on record with the DMV, nor any law enforcement's criminal database. However, I shall keep searching."

"So if he's a crazed stalker he's at least never made it to the FBI's most wanted list. Not sure if that's comforting or not." Tony muses, scratching his chin.

Steve swallows nervously and bends down in front of Tony, whose eyes are still on Bucky. "Tony, please, he's-" Well, harmless is probably a poor choice. 'Unlikely to harm you' is only slightly better. "-he's my friend, and he's been through so much already. You can't let anyone take him in."

"Sir, I'm calling the local authorities now, what would-"

"Belay that, J." Tony cuts off, and Steve swears he sees Tony's eyes flick to Steve.

"Sir?" JARVIS questions, and again Steve can tell he isn't happy.

"Don't call anyone just yet," Tony says, standing. He's frowning down at Bucky, head cocked, and his eyes are on the exposed metal of Bucky's left arm. "Let's wait until Mr. Sexy Hobo wakes up and see what he has to say. If we don't like it, then you can send him packing."

Steve lets out a startled, relieved laugh.

"Very well, Sir." JARVIS says, his tone disproving, but Tony ignores it.

* * *

Tony is still by Bucky's side when he regains consciousness twenty minutes later, sitting in the rolling chair he'd appropriated when the floor had become too uncomfortable for him.

He'd been fidgeting nervously for the last several minutes - Steve isn't sure he had ever seen him hold still voluntarily in his whole life - but stops the instant he notices Bucky's eyes fluttering. He looks like he wants to lean forward and touch Bucky, maybe not-so-helpfully shake him back to consciousness, but seems to think better of it and waits for Bucky to come to on his own before speaking.

"So, do you sneak into people's homes often, or am I special?" he asks once Bucky has opened his eyes.

Bucky jerks to a sitting position and has a knife up to Tony's throat before Steve can so much as wince.

Tony's eyes widen, but to his credit, he doesn't panic. "Oh. That's...interesting. I thought we disarmed you pretty good." He frowns, then side-eyes the knife. "Wait, where the hell were you keeping that?"

Bucky blinks, then carefully takes in his surroundings. Steve sees a flicker of recognition, and then the knife disappears as quickly as it came.

"I-" Bucky says, then clears his throat. "We were over there, before."

Steve thinks that might be Bucky's way of apologizing. From his reaction, Tony seems to think so, too.

"No, seriously, where was that thing? I mean I frisked you pretty good - uh, not in the sexy way, no, totally professional and impersonal, though, okay, Dum-E might have copped a feel, but you shouldn't take it personally, he's curious and has impulse control issues-"

Steve resists the urge to laugh at Bucky's expression, because this is a _serious situation, damn it_ , but it's hard. As far as first impressions go, Bucky and Tony are both, well. Impressing.

"-which, okay, isn't an excuse, I'll talk to him about it - we do not feel up unconscious strangers on our couch, Dum-E, no matter how attractive they are, you hear me! - but ah where were we? Oh, right. Weapons. Which you had a lot of. All over your person - I mean really? Who even needs that many knives, besides butchers, chefs, and serial killers? You're not any of those things, are you? Or worse, all three? Because if that's the case I may have to rethink you breaking in here." Tony says, taking a breath for the first time since his little soliloquy had started.

Bucky opens his mouth, then looks off to the side. "...No…?"

Tony crosses his arms. "Really? Because you don't sound so sure. Which is not at all comforting." he grumbles, leaning back in his chair. "I really don't want to find myself chopped up and eaten by a hot Hannibal Lecter. So maybe you should clarify for me."

The little scrunch Bucky gets between his eyebrows when he's confused is in full force when he brings his gaze back to Tony. Steve tries not to smile as he notices Tony noticing it, as well as a muscle in Tony's jaw twitching. Well, isn't _that_ interesting.

When it becomes apparent Bucky has no idea what Tony is talking about, Tony sighs and leans forward, uncrossing his arms to scrub his face with one hand.

"Look, you know who I am, but I'm at a complete loss." Tony says, waving his arm towards Bucky. "I don't know you, I don't know how you got in here, and I'm not sure I want to know why you had - and probably still have - a variety of lethal weapons on your person. Now you don't seem like an all bad guy so I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt here, but only under the conditions that you answer my questions and promise not to cut me up and stuff me in my own freezer."

Steve flinches, thinking of the cryo-chamber, but Bucky doesn't react to Tony's words, other than to nod almost imperceptibly. Tony narrows his eyes and gives him a quick once-over - probably still trying to figure out where Bucky put his knife - before nodding himself.

"Okay. So, who are you, and what are you doing here?"

Bucky swallows and glances around the room, then settles on staring at Tony's left knee instead.

"I…" Bucky looks up and locks eyes with Tony, his voice so broken it physically hurts Steve. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Tony asks, frowning, but Steve sees something in his face soften at Bucky's lost expression. "Hey now, what do you mean you don't know? You don't know how you got here?"

Bucky shakes his head. "No, I-" He frowns, eyes going distant. "I know how I got here, but I don't know why….I just…." He swallows. "I don't, who I am. I don't know."

"You don't…" Tony starts, then his eyes widen. "Wait, you don't know who you are? That's...what's your name?"

"I don't know." Bucky whispers sadly, fists clenched in his lap. "The handlers never...I wasn't supposed to come here, but I had to. I had to come find you."

"You had to come find me," Tony repeats, and Steve can see the gears turning in his head. "Why?"

"Because you needed help," Bucky says, his gaze intent. "You were...in trouble, and I had to come get you. When I saw that you had escaped, I came here."

"You were coming to get me. In Afghanistan." Tony swallows, and scrubs his face. "You..." He shakes his head. "Hey, JARVIS? Did you expand your search to include hospitals?"

"Indeed, Sir. As well as mental health care facilities throughout the country. I could find no missing patients matching his description."

Bucky jumps at JARVIS's voice, but stills when Tony reaches a hand out and places it on Bucky's shoulder.

"Okay, so. You're...I don't know what you are, but I don't think you're a serial killer, so-"

Bucky mumbles something quietly Steve can't make out, but whatever it is makes Tony drop his hand and freeze completely.

"What- repeat that." Tony says faintly, his eyes pinched. Steve steps forward, off-kilter by Tony's reaction and not wanting to miss Bucky's words again.

Bucky doesn't reply right away, sitting in silence and staring a hole into his thigh instead. When he finally does, Steve still has to crouch down beside Tony to hear him.

"Do you know someone named Steve?"

Steve's mouth goes dry. _He remembers me_.

Tony's face goes carefully blank. "Dunno. Do you?"

Bucky looks up, resignation in every line of his face. "I- no. I don't think so, but he...knows you?"

Steve closes his eyes and sinks down to the floor; no, Bucky doesn't remember him, but. _But he still knows me_ , Steve thinks frantically, something warm welling up in his chest. _He still knows me, and he heard me after all_.

Tony rocks back, and Steve can read every line of tension in his body. Steve feels apprehensive again, because, okay, from an outsider's point of view, all of this looks pretty bad, and Bucky's explanation probably hurt more than helped. Nobody in their right mind would just accept a strange, obviously mentally disturbed person with multiple illegal weapons breaking into their house, and whether or not Tony calls the cops, he's still going to call _someone_. He can't just ignore the whole thing and ask Bucky if he wants to stick around for pizza and beer.

Sometimes, Steve forgets Tony isn't quite in his right mind.

"So. I'm hungry, are you hungry?" Tony asks suddenly, standing up and avoiding looking at Bucky directly.

Bucky cocks his head. Steve knows he must be, because he hasn't had an actual meal since the dive bar in Mexico. "I haven't eaten." he finally ventures after a few seconds of deliberation.

Tony nods. "Okay, good. I'm, uh, not much of a cook, but there's like fifty fruit baskets and cheese platters and wine and God knows what else upstairs people have been sending me as 'Congratulations you didn't die' gifts. Figure we can dig into some of that and maybe open one of those wine bottles, 'cause I don't know about you, but I need a drink." Tony says tiredly, making his way over to the stairs and motioning for Bucky to follow.

Bucky hesitates, and Steve thinks maybe he's reading the same tension in Tony's body that Steve is.

"Oh and uh, hey, I've also got a guest room you can crash in," Tony adds as nonchalantly as he can. Bucky stills.

"Sir!" JARVIS protests, clearly alarmed, but Tony ignores him.

"For the night, for a few days, however long you need." Tony says, finally looking over his shoulder at Bucky, and Steve realizes he's been reading Tony all wrong. _He wants him to stay_ , he thinks, sagging in relief.

Bucky has a deer-in-the-headlights look about him, but there is something else under the expression, something that looks almost...hopeful.

"Alright," he croaks. Steve watches the tension between Tony's shoulder blades ease.

"Okay," Tony agrees, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small half-smile. "Though you'll have to forgive me if I don't feel like giving you your arsenal back while you're staying here."

Bucky seems to take a second to consider that, though Steve knows he is more than likely inventorying the undiscovered weapons still on his person.

"I won't need them." he says solemnly, and while Tony's expression goes pinched at the multiple implications of that statement, he doesn't comment on it.

"So," Tony says once they're upstairs in his kitchen, a platter of cheese and summer sausage on the counter between them. "About that arm…"

* * *

Tony is disappointed Bucky doesn't know much about the engineering involved in his arm, and Bucky refuses to let Tony examine it, so after demolishing several cheese trays and fruit baskets as well as a couple of sandwiches ("Jesus, buddy, you can really eat."), Tony shows Bucky to the guestroom and tells JARVIS to keep an eye on him.

Bucky doesn't really sleep that night, but neither does Tony, and Steve ends up spending all evening fretting in Tony's living room because _what now?_

Since he'd broken free from HYDRA Bucky had never stayed in one place for long, and it was probably a crapshoot as to whether or not he'd be gone by morning. And Tony, Tony would never be able to leave this alone, something a quick check confirms when Steve finds him trying to track down info on Bucky in his workshop. And what happens when Tony does find something, and discovers he has an internationally-wanted assassin - the same one that had killed his parents, no less - holed up in his guestroom? Or someone came looking for Bucky and found him here? The list goes on and on, and Steve wears a metaphorical path in Tony's carpet going over it in his head all night.

The next morning finds Steve's worries on Bucky leaving unfounded, though, when he leaves the guestroom and goes to find Tony in the workshop. He doesn't say much besides cautiously returning Tony's flippant good morning, choosing instead to wander around the workshop and watch Dummy, U, and Butterfingers in fascination while Tony babbles on about everything and nothing.

They stay like that until mid-afternoon, when JARVIS informs Tony that Obadiah and Tony's PA, Pepper Potts, are here to see him. The news makes both men pause, and Steve tenses.

Tony puts down the tool he'd been holding and says "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I might have a little trouble trying to explain you, so-"

"They can't know I'm here." Bucky says quickly, panicked.

"-maybe you should just stay down- huh. Okay." Tony blinks, clearly taken aback by Bucky's fear. "I was going to say you should stay down here and out of sight until I think of a way to explain you anyway, but alright. Can I ask why you don't want them to know you're here?"

Bucky looks lost again, and lifts his arms to hug his middle. "I...they'll-" he looks down, everything in his body language screaming defeat. "I'll have to leave." he mumbles softly; but not softly enough, since Tony still hears him.

Steve watches something flicker in Tony's eyes, something hard and protective, and starts wondering if maybe he'd been fretting for nothing last night after all. The last time Tony had gotten that look in his eye, he'd flown a jury-rigged suit of armor out of a cave in Afghanistan.

"Not if you don't want to," Tony says firmly, then claps his hands. "I'll go see what they want and take care of it, and you just sit tight 'til I get back, got it?"

He waits until Bucky nods, and he gives him a carefree grin Steve sees right through.

"Back in a flash. Boys, keep our guest busy and try not to destroy anything while I'm gone, capiche?" he yells to the bots as he makes his way upstairs.

Bucky watches him go, clearly unhappy. Dum-E, taking Tony's orders very seriously, beeps at him inquisitively until it has his attention and tries to hand him a grease-stained rag. When that fails to elicit a response, Dum-E zooms off and tries to hand him the cap he'd left in the workshop yesterday, which Bucky does take and places dutifully on his head. Dum-E beeps delightedly and brings more things to Bucky, including three of the weapons Tony had taken from him yesterday, though Steve is relieved to note Bucky only keeps the flash-bomb and puts the rest back when Dum-E isn't looking.

When Tony comes back down carrying a box of pastries a short time later, Bucky is in the process of accepting a wrench from Dum-E while wearing one of Tony's hoodies, a toolbelt, soldering gloves, and Tony's sunglasses. Tony blinks owlishly at them as Bucky puts the wrench in the pocket of his hoodie and Dum-E zooms off to find something else to give him, then shakes his head.

"Ooookay, you look like you've been having fun." Tony says, laying the box on the same worktable Steve is sitting on. "They're gone, by the way - Dum-E, don't give him that, he doesn't want a moldy coffee mug! - and Obie brought food, so I thought I'd share."

Bucky accepts the coffee mug from Dum-E anyway and walks over to put it down on the table by Steve's other side. Steve doesn't miss the way his eyes run over Tony when he does, almost as though he's cataloging him to see if there's been any changes or injuries since he'd left.

"Obie wants me to stick around and lay low until all of this blows over, whatever the hell that means." Tony continues, using the big theatrical hand gestures he's been using since he was a toddler as he talks.

"I think he's hoping I'll come to my senses and change my mind about the weapons, but that isn't happening, so. More time to work on my new project anyway - hey, are those my sunglasses? I was wondering what happened to those-"

The rest of whatever Tony is going to say is cut off when Bucky wordlessly pulls the sunglasses off and slides them onto Tony's face, leaving Tony speechless with his hands frozen mid-gesture. Steve has to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh; Tony's face is _priceless_ , and is that a _blush_ creeping in? Tony hasn't blushed since he was a teenager!

Bucky cocks his head curiously, the eye-scrunch back in full force, while Tony clears his throat and makes a grab for the pastry box. "Donut?" he offers hastily, voice a little high.

Dum-E chooses that moment to run over Tony's foot in its hurry to present Bucky with a pen, and by the time he's done swearing at it most of his embarrassment seems to have dissipated.

Steve can't help but notice the blush still stays for a little while, though.

* * *

Bucky doesn't take off the next day, either, nor the day after that. Soon a week had gone by, and yet Bucky still remained.

In that time Tony and JARVIS expand their efforts to figure out just who Bucky is. They still don't call him in or tell anyone about him, though, and with each passing day Tony seems more and more relaxed around him.

There is a bit of an incident on the fourth day, when Bucky finds Tony struggling to cut open the last cheese block and whips out a hunting knife, chopping off a hunk and solemnly offering it to him. After a few moments of stunned silence Tony recovers well enough to accept it from him. The small smile Bucky gives him in return is the first Steve had seen since he'd broken HYDRA's programming, and seems to go a long way in convincing Tony not to make a big deal of it all.

(Not that it's forgotten, as it's still followed by a lengthy discussion on the appropriateness and sanitary concerns of using lethal weapons as culinary tools, but at that point Steve is fairly certain Tony is still more chagrined with not knowing where Bucky is keeping the knives than the threat of him actually using them on him. Bucky nods along but misses the point entirely, and starts carrying around one of Tony's largest kitchen knives instead.)

In any case, Bucky and Tony are getting along, and while a part of Steve is still waiting for the other shoe to drop, he's just grateful they're both in front of him, alive and well. After worrying so much about them these last few months, watching them interact is almost soothing.

After just a few days they had already fallen into a sort of routine, where Bucky would go find Tony in his workshop in the mornings and putter around, or sit quietly on the couch while Tony worked on his 'secret project' and yacked Bucky's ears off. Generally Bucky didn't leave the workshop on his own unless Tony did, something Tony seemed aware of, since he actually made an effort to go back up to bed at night and take breaks for meals so Bucky would, too. Even if he usually went right back down to the workshop once he made sure Bucky was holed up in the guest room, Steve is still pleased Bucky - however indirectly - is making Tony take better care of himself.

It becomes not-so-indirectly a few days later, though, when Tony - particularly engrossed in his project - forgets anything outside his immediate work exists, including sleeping and eating. Though he'd gone upstairs with Bucky the night before, he'd come right back down and started working - which had been over twenty hours ago. In that time Steve hadn't seen him consume anything other than coffee, so he isn't surprised when Tony's stomach growls audibly from across the workshop.

Tony ignores it - likely too far down the rabbit hole to even notice the sound, let alone realize it had come from him - but Bucky frowns in his direction. He sits watching Tony with an almost thoughtful expression for a few minutes, like he's waiting for Tony to do something else, then stands up and goes upstairs. He isn't gone for very long; Steve is just wondering if he should go up and check on him when he returns, a plate with two sandwiches and a sliced apple in one hand and a water bottle in the other.

Steve watches him clear off a space on the worktable near Tony's elbow, then lightly nudge Tony with the cold water bottle. It takes a few tries before Tony notices, and still a few more before he gives him his full attention. The double-take when he sees the plate Bucky is holding is comical.

"You need to eat," Bucky tells him firmly, putting the food and drink down on the cleared worktable. At Tony's bemused expression he crosses his arms, looking so much like the Bucky Steve remembers from before the war that Steve's chest aches.

Bucky is giving Tony what Steve had always internally called the 'take-care-of-yourself-or- _else_ ' look. He's intimately familiar with that look, having been on the receiving end of it more times than he could count growing up. Between the ice and HYDRA, he'd been sure he'd never see it again.

Tony blinks, dumbfounded, and opens his mouth, but whatever he's about to say is interrupted by his stomach giving another earth-shattering growl.

Bucky glares pointedly at the food. Tony grudgingly grabs one of the sandwiches.

Steve is pleased to see Bucky's Look hadn't lost potency in all these years, and that it has the same effect on Tony as it had on him once upon a time.

Tony takes a bite of the sandwich, then practically shoves the entire thing in his mouth. Steve is positive he sees Tony's eyes roll back into his head a little.

"Whargh, vis-" Tony tries to say around his mouthful of sandwich, before giving up and chewing. Bucky, unfazed, offers him the water bottle to wash it all down. Once Tony has guzzled about half of it, he tries again.

"This, this is good. Did you make this?" he asks, waving the one corner he'd been unable to fit into his mouth and taking another drink.

Bucky - who is watching Tony carefully, as though he's afraid he'll start choking - shrugs.

"Well, 's good," Tony mumbles around another, smaller mouthful, and reaches for an apple slice Bucky had very unsubtly scooted closer to him.

"You should eat more," Bucky says fretfully, pulling a second water bottle out of his pocket when Tony finishes the first one. "You'll never get bigger if you don't eat more."

Steve's mouth drops open of its own accord. That is, word for word, the exact same thing Bucky had told him for years at every meal growing up. He used to give Steve huge servings and drop portions from his own plate onto Steve's while saying it, even when they could barely afford to eat at all. It had become something of a joke between them after the serum, with Bucky swearing that all those years of 'fattening Steve up' had done the trick. When Steve had started to eat enough to satisfy his enhanced metabolism - which burned through nearly three times what he'd eaten before and then some - Bucky would joke that Steve was plenty big enough and didn't need to worry about growing any more, but would still scrape part of his plate onto Steve's, just like old times.

It makes Steve grin, not only because of the memories, but also because-

"Is that a height crack?!" Tony chokes out after a few seconds of outraged sputtering, pointing an accusing finger at Bucky. "Because I am NOT small!"

"No," Bucky says, scowling and scrunching his face in confusion, as though unsure of why he had said what he said. "Your size is fine," he adds hesitantly, reaching out and patting Tony on the head.

This, predictably, does the opposite of reassure Tony.

"I am not small," Tony repeats, livid, though Steve notes he doesn't try to bat Bucky's hand away. "I'm not short, I'm average. Five ni- ten, five ten...ish, is not short." he adds defiantly, glaring, well, _up_ at Bucky. "You're only, what, two inches taller than me? You have _no right_ to throw stones, buddy!"

Knowing how sensitive Tony has always been about his height and having been in a similar position, Steve probably should feel some sympathy instead of bending over double laughing. When he finally comes up for air an indeterminate time later, Tony is still going on about height, weight, and size averages for adults in the country; he doesn't stop until Bucky physically silences him by putting an apple slice in his mouth.

* * *

After the sandwich, it's as if a switch has been flipped inside of Bucky, and all of the protective, mother-henning instincts HYDRA had locked away for so many years are released. Steve finds it glorious to behold, for no other reason than finally having someone he trusts looking after Tony like he'd wished he could all these years.

Though, all right, if he's being honest, seeing Bucky fussing over someone that isn't him is certainly refreshing. And a little funny. No wonder their friends made fun of them growing up - Bucky is downright nurturing. He even starts _cutting the crusts_ off Tony's sandwiches after Tony makes a half-joking complaint about them one day - and it isn't even the whole crust, just the bottoms.

Meal runs become a regular thing, with Bucky bringing Tony food and snacks every few hours. Tony seems partial to Bucky's sandwiches, but would pretty much accept anything Bucky puts in front of him, which is basically anything Bucky can throw together from Tony's fridge and pantry. Steve doesn't know where Bucky learned to make a breakfast burrito, but according to Tony, he makes a damn fine one.

Steve remembers the truly awful burnt gruel Bucky used to try to force him to eat, and feels cheated.

The only thing Tony really insists on is Bucky bringing enough down for both of them so they can eat together, a request that bewilders Bucky.

"Look, I feel stupid just sitting here eating while you glare holes into my skull," Tony says to Bucky's nonplussed expression.

Steve thinks the description is apt - it often looks as though Bucky is willing Tony's body to digest more effectively, though he thinks it more likely Bucky is watching for any signs of choking so he can jump in and perform the heimlich maneuver at a second's notice. Bucky's paranoid like that, and Tony really does inhale his food.

"Besides, food tastes better with company. Or something like that," Tony adds with forced flippancy, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. Bucky still seems dubious, but the next time he comes down he brings enough for two. He becomes much more enthusiastic about the idea afterward, and Steve thinks the wide grin Tony gives him when he sits beside him might have something to do with it.

The nurturing doesn't stop at food, either. Bucky's like a duckling that's imprinted on someone as its mother, only in reverse. Steve half-expects him to start knitting Tony warm hats and sweaters.

Bucky hovers over Tony like a new mother chasing after a toddler who has just learned to walk, afraid he might topple over or plow right into something dangerous. He jumps in to grab things off of high shelves if Tony so much as glances at them (something Steve finds hilarious, and irks Tony to no end). He also does perimeter checks of the house every night, going over all possible entry points until he's sure there's no way anyone will set foot in the house without him or JARVIS knowing about it.

Then there are Tony's sleeping habits.

Tony, engrossed as he is in his project, gives up any pretense of heading up to bed once Bucky starts bringing him meals at regular intervals, inhaling whole pots of coffee and working for hours on end without sleep instead. It takes Bucky a little longer to pick up on it than it did with the food - likely because Bucky himself sleeps so little - but once he has, he's a man on a mission.

"You need to sleep." he says bluntly one evening after witnessing Tony start to nod off while using a soldering iron.

Tony squints back at him, bleary-eyed and confused. "Huh?"

Bucky reaches over and pulls the tool out of Tony's limp hands, giving Tony a very close approximation of the long-suffering looks Steve used to get when he was a kid.

"You're tired. You can't keep working like this, you'll make a mistake." Bucky says, pushing the tool aside and out of Tony's reach.

"And how would you know if I make a mistake or not?" Tony snorts, rubbing his eyes and glaring grumpily at Bucky. "You don't even know what I'm making!"

"You'll work more efficiently once you have rested." he insists, some of the Winter Soldier creeping into his voice.

Tony clenches his jaw stubbornly, but before he can get anything out JARVIS interrupts him.

"If I may, Sir, it's been twenty-six hours since you last slept."

The A.I. has become noticeably warmer towards Bucky since the meal-sharing started, offering his assistance unprompted whenever Bucky seemed lost and answering his questions once Bucky became comfortable enough to start asking them. Steve suspects JARVIS, much like Steve, is thankful that someone is there to physically make Tony take care of himself.

"Traitor," Tony mutters under his breath. Bucky glares at him expectantly.

"Okay, fine! I guess a few winks can't hurt." Tony sighs, hauling himself up from his stool with herculean effort and wobbling a little once he stands up. Bucky's arms are out in an instant to steady him, and even when Tony finds his legs he doesn't let go.

"I'm, uh, okay, big guy." Tony says, giving the hand Bucky has on his shoulder a light pat and determinately not looking at Bucky's face. "I, er, guess I'm really not firing on all cylinders."

Bucky backs off a few steps, but continues to hover in case he's needed again. Tony gives him the stink eye, immediately ruining the effect with a wide, jaw-cracking yawn.

* * *

Upon reflection while sitting beside Tony's bed later the same evening, Steve realizes he's almost as bad as Bucky. In his own defense, he's been watching over Tony while he sleeps since he was a baby, and nearly forty years of habit is hard to break. He tells himself it's to make sure Tony actually sleeps like he says he will, but if he's being honest with himself, it has more to do with the the feeling of unease he'd been unable to shake off when Tony had stalked, grumbling, off to bed earlier.

In any case, Steve's glad he'd done so, as that night Tony has one of his nightmares.

Steve can feel something is wrong even before Tony's breathing quickens, a deep, unsettling feeling making the back of his neck prickle and his eyes dart to Tony's face. Tony is still sleeping, but under Steve's gaze it goes from peaceful to anything but.

Tony grunts and twists, his eyes squeezing shut tighter, breath coming out in pants. His right hand fists in the sheets, and as Steve stands up and moves closer, he lets out a little whimper.

"Tony…" Steve whispers softly, crouching down by Tony's pillow. "Tony, it's okay, it's not real, it's just a dream." he continues frantically as Tony's jerking gets worse. He reaches out for Tony's shoulder but catches himself, squeezing his hand into a fist and gritting his teeth.

He needs Bucky. Someone who can actually touch Tony, wake him up from whatever demons are haunting him in his sleep. Steve bites his lip and glances at the bedroom door, wondering if and how he can get Bucky's attention or draw him in here.

Steve is still contemplating what to do when Tony startles awake, letting out a strangled shout as he sits bolt upright. He takes in several choking gasps and scans the room with wild eyes, then sags completely when he realizes where he is, his face crumpling.

Steve grimaces in sympathy and holds his arm out to hover over Tony's back. Fine tremors shake Tony's hands when he brings them up to cover his face.

Steve thinks back to when Tony had bad dreams as a child, back when Tony still talked to him. He would wake up, sniffling and terrified, and Steve would sit up with him and tell him stories, talk to him and soothe him as best he could.

That isn't going to work now, but that doesn't mean Steve isn't going to try.

"It's alright," Steve soothes, a bitter, angry taste in his mouth. He doesn't know exactly what Tony had been dreaming about, but he has an idea. "It's okay, they can't hurt you, Tony, you're-"

 _Safe_ , he's about to say, but he's interrupted when Bucky comes crashing through the door, a gun in one hand and his favorite kitchen knife in the other. Tony yelps and jerks back, slamming himself into the headboard, while Steve finds himself standing at the foot of the bed, one arm raised in a purely reflexive stance.

Once the scene catches up with him Steve relaxes, and is momentarily glad nobody can see him. He strongly suspects Bucky would never let him hear the end of it if he saw him trying to throw a non-existent shield.

Bucky's eyes scan the room, looking for unseen enemies, then find Tony, who is gaping at Bucky, stunned and slack-jawed.

"I know I've said this to you before," Tony says, voice faint and shaking. "But I feel as though it needs to be repeated. What. The. _Hell_."

Bucky blinks, then lowers his weapons. "You, you yelled." he says hesitantly, stepping into the room cautiously.

Tony's face flushes in a mixture of shame and self-directed anger, his hands clenching the blankets around his waist in a death-grip.

"That was nothing, just, just - wait, where the hell did you get that gun?" he asks warily, looking as though he really doesn't want to know the answer.

"The refrigerator." Bucky says distractedly, bending down to peek under the bed.

"The refrigerator." Tony repeats flatly. "You-" He closes his eyes. "Why are there guns in my refrigerator?"

Bucky's head pokes out from under the bed, face blank. Steve thinks of the other little caches Bucky has been accumulating around the house, and wonders why JARVIS hasn't said anything to Tony yet.

"Right, I don't want to know." Tony sighs. "Are you seriously checking my closet for monsters?" he adds disbelievingly as Bucky disappears into his walk-in closet.

Apparently satisfied there are no ninjas hiding amongst Tony's clothes, Bucky steps back into the bedroom, pocketing both weapons and facing Tony, expression worried.

"Are you alright?" he asks, shifting nervously now that there is no visible threat to grapple.

Tony sucks in a sharp breath. "Yeah, I'm not doing this now," he declares, yanking the blankets off and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "I think I've had more than enough sleep for one night, thank you."

He brushes past Bucky, giving him a brisk, half-hearted pat on the shoulder as he does. Bucky gives the room one more suspicious once over, then trails after him. Steve sighs and follows suit.

They find Tony standing in the kitchen, looking where the refrigerator is located with an expression that can only be described as constipated. When Steve steps around Bucky, he immediately sees why.

The entire door has been ripped clean off, and is half-leaning, half-lying against the countertop beside the fridge. The handle is bent, and when Tony steps closer and puts his hand over it, Steve realizes the bend is in the shape of a hand.

Tony turns and squints at Bucky.

"You yelled," Bucky mumbles plaintively, not quite making eye-contact, and reminding Steve of a guilty puppy who's been caught chewing on the sofa.

"...how?" Tony implores, gesturing wildly between the refrigerator and Bucky in turn. "And no, don't you give me that face, I'm too tired to be charmed right now. I mean, just, _how_?"

Bucky doesn't reply, choosing instead to stare forlornly at a jar of mayonnaise that has fallen out of the fridge and rolled halfway across the kitchen floor.

"I mean, alright, you're pretty buff, I admit, but how the hell do you rip an entire door off -" Tony freezes mid-sentence, his eyes widening and mouth falling open as he focuses on Bucky - or, specifically, Bucky's left arm.

"Your arm," Tony says suddenly, expression awed. "Holy shit, you ripped that off with your _arm_. How much can you lift with that thing?" he asks quickly, excitement replacing all the wariness that had been in his voice before.

Bucky blinks owlishly, clearly thrown by Tony's sudden change in demeanor.

"What about grip strength?" Tony presses on, before going off into mechanical babble Steve can't make heads or tails of, but he guesses means 'What else can it do?'

"Uh, dunno." Bucky mutters when Tony takes a breather, squeezing his metal fist closed slowly, then opening it again. "Never really thought about it."

Steve's lips part, both the Brooklyn accent coloring the words and the casual way Bucky says them making his chest constrict painfully. They are just a few words, but they are pure, unadulterated Bucky, without a hint of the Winter Soldier's monotone. Even the snippets Steve's been seeing and hearing lately - the out of the blue remark about Tony's height, the nurturing and mother-henning, the general fussing - hadn't had that much of the old Bucky in them.

The change doesn't go unnoticed by Tony, either. Instead of asking more questions Bucky probably can't understand, he pauses, moving from eyeing Bucky's arm to watching Bucky's face thoughtfully.

Bucky - clueless to any significance in his previous statement - looks up and catches Tony's eye. "Do you want to," he starts, then hesitates. He bites his lip, then holds out his arm. "Do you want to see?"

Tony sucks in a sharp, surprised breath. Though Tony asked the first night of Bucky's stay, he'd dropped the topic completely after Bucky's first swift - and rather adamant - refusal, and until now hadn't brought it up again. That Bucky is letting him now, offering even…

Clearly, the significance isn't lost on Tony.

"Are you sure?" Tony asks, voice uncharacteristically soft. "I was just running my mouth, I wasn't -" He stops and swallows, then says, in a careful, measured tone, "If it makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to let me look at it. I won't be mad, or anything. You don't - you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Especially for my benefit." he adds, mouth downturning a little.

Steve frowns, his thoughts drifting to the arc reactor embedded in Tony's chest. It has never occurred to him until now just why Tony has been unusually tactful about Bucky's arm, despite the engineer in him practically lusting after it; Tony, of all people, knows what it's like to have something foreign you aren't entirely comfortable with attached to your body.

Steve sets his jaw and digs his fingers into his arms, missing his shield. He owes HYDRA and the Ten Rings a lot of pain.

Before his thoughts can go any darker, Steve is broken out of his reverie by a soft sound on Bucky's side of the room. When he looks up, it's to find Bucky has taken several steps forward to close the gap between himself and Tony.

Bucky's eyes are wide, and the look he is giving Tony is pure wonder.

There's a pregnant pause, and Steve feels something in the room...shift. He can't say what it is, but it feels private, and for the first time since they have been together, he wonders if he should maybe leave the two alone.

Finally, slowly, Bucky nods to himself and holds the hand out, palm up, to Tony, and says "Okay."

Tony blinks, breath coming out a little wobbly. "Uh, okay?" he asks, off-kilter.

"Okay." Bucky repeats, all of the hesitation of before gone. "Usually it has maintenance by now, anyway."

Tony nods, reaches out, and gently takes Bucky's hand between both of his. "I'll take good care of it." he promises, his voice returning to normal.

Bucky looks back towards the countertop, squinting at nothing Steve can make out, and breaks whatever spell has come over the two of them by blurting "There's a piece of crust stuck in the elbow I haven't been able to get out."

Tony goggles at him disbelievingly. Apparently deciding that no, Bucky is not messing with him, he sighs and scrubs a hand over his face.

"I'll need my tools." he says, then gives Bucky a small, tired grin. "Come on, Brooklyn. Let's see what we can do."

They head down to the workshop, the refrigerator left forgotten.

* * *

Two hours later, settled on the couch in the workshop and looking into an open panel on Bucky's arm, Tony starts to doze off again, dropping the tool he's using. Bucky catches it before it can hit anything and places it on the coffee table, then gently pushes at Tony's shoulder until his head is resting against the back of the couch. Tony migrates to Bucky's shoulder instead, snuffling softly, and he is fast asleep within minutes.

Bucky pulls a blanket down over the top of them and sits quietly for a little while before his own eyes start to droop. Steve stays and watches them from the coffee table long after Bucky nods off, smiling as the two snore away in peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

"So," Tony says - face tinged pink and cup of coffee in hand - when Bucky finally wakes up the next morning. "Want to see what I've been working on?"

* * *

"It does not look like a suit of armor." Bucky says dubiously as Tony adjusts the heavy-looking metal boots and fiddles with the controls in his hand.

"That's because it's not, yet." Tony points out. He's rocking back and forth, practically bouncing in his strange boots, his excitement both palpable and infectious. "This is only part of the armor. The rest will come later, once I've stabilized the flight aspect of it."

Again, Bucky looks dubious, and remembering Tony's great plunge in the Afghan desert, Steve is inclined to agree with him.

"Alright, so, let's get this show on the road!" Tony exclaims, clapping his hands together gleefully. "U, you're on camera duty. Dum-E, you've got the fire extinguisher -"

"Why do you need a fire extinguisher?" Bucky interrupts with a note of alarm. "Are you expecting something to catch on fire?"

"Well, no, but as an engineer it always pays to be prepared." Tony says breezily, waving off Bucky's concern.

Steve, who has been present for several of Tony's experiments through his long afterlife, thinks it likely they will indeed need the fire extinguisher.

"Starting at 10% thrust capacity," Tony announces, pressing down on the controls in his hand.

Before anyone can so much as blink, Tony rockets up, smacks into the ceiling, and goes crashing back into the ground.

Dum-E dutifully sprays him with the fire extinguisher.

Steve is both impressed and alarmed. Impressed, because in all his years he has never seen anyone faceplant into the ceiling before. Alarmed, because, well, Tony has just _faceplanted into the ceiling_.

"Tony!" he cries, amidst Bucky's stream of Russian expletives.

"I'm okay!" Tony yells, then starts choking on a mouthful of foam. "Dum-E, stop it, I'm not on fire!"

Bucky - who's across the room already, still swearing in Russian - scrambles through the foam to get to Tony, looking equal parts pissed and worried.

"Sir, my calculations indicate that perhaps we should start on a lower setting." JARVIS remarks, sounding unworried, which eases some of Steve's tension. JARVIS wouldn't be spouting off statistics if Tony is badly hurt.

"I think I figured that out, J." Tony grouses, letting Bucky yank him up to a standing position. He bats uselessly at the foam still stuck to his clothes, then turns his attention to Bucky, who is fretfully checking him over for injuries. "Did you just call me a dumbass in Russian?"

"No, I called you a fucking stupid dumbass," Bucky snaps back, Brooklyn accent back in full force. He takes Tony's chin in his hand and carefully tilts his head back, the gesture gentle despite his tone. "Your suit of armor needs a helmet."

Tony scowls, jerks back out of Bucky's grasp, slips in foam, and nearly falls backwards on his ass. Bucky reaches out and catches him, looking thoroughly unimpressed, though it's somewhat belied by the softness in his eyes.

"Of course it's going to have a helmet," Tony sniffs, waiting until Bucky has dragged them out of the foamy mess to pull out of his hold this time. "It's going to have that and more, hotstuff, just you wait and see. Alright, boys, let's gear up for test two - Dum-E, you are menace, give the fire extinguisher to potty-mouth, over there-"

"Dumbass," Bucky sighs, this time in English, still looking very unimpressed.

* * *

"Hand stabilizers," Tony announces from the mountain of foam a few tries later. "I need hand stabilizers."

* * *

"Maybe you should work on the helmet next." Bucky says pointedly a few days and several more tests later.

Tony scoffs and makes an adjustment with a screwdriver to the strange device wrapped around his arm. Though Steve has seen Tony working with something similar on his holograms, it's still strange to see the actual metal frame of the bizarre-looking prototype in real life, let alone on Tony.

Tony gives an affirmative little hum to himself and snaps something in place, then turns to Bucky and flashes him a rakish grin.

"Now this is what I'm talking about." he says, holding his arm out and flexing his fingers. The thing goes all the way up past his elbow, with a glowing circle in the center of his palm. "This ought to help with weight distribution, plus stabilize flight and-"

"I could go get you a helmet." Bucky suggests with a note of desperation.

"-give me better control. You need to relax, you're ruining my moment of ingenuity. And I'm starting to think you've got some kind of helmet fetish." Tony says, raising his eyebrows and pointing at Bucky accusingly. "It's like you want me to hide my face. Do you have something against my face? Because this face alone-"

"It looks dangerous." Bucky says suspiciously, wisely cutting Tony off before he can go any further off topic and eyeing Tony's arm warily.

Tony rolls his eyes.

"It's perfectly harmless," he says, holding his arm straight out and curling his hand slightly. Steve, who happens to be standing directly in front of it, gets an excellent view of the glowing circle in Tony's palm, which starts to get brighter. "Look -"

Tony's hand twitches, and that's all the warning Steve gets before a bright blast of heat shoots out of the glowing circle and right _through_ him, followed shortly by the sound of something crashing across the room.

Steve's yelp mixes with Bucky's shout of alarm and Tony's grunt as the recoil jerks Tony's arm back sharply, but everyone goes silent as they gawk at the destruction left in the blast's wake.

"Huh," Tony says finally, looking down at his palm thoughtfully. Bucky quickly reaches over and grabs his wrist, yanking it away from his face and giving Tony The Look.

"Sir, Ms. Potts and Mr. Stane are here to see you, and Ms. Potts is on her way down to the workshop." JARVIS announces, startling Bucky into dropping Tony's hand.

Tony sighs. "I'll go head her off," he tells Bucky, quickly removing the device from his arm and placing it on the table. Bucky gives it a calculating look Steve knows all too well, one Tony must be picking up on too because he adds "Uh-uh, don't even think about it. Do _not_ mess with this, or try to hide it, or replace it with something you deem safer. No," he adds firmly, pointing at Bucky in much the same way he does when scolding Dum-E as he backs towards the doors. "Just...leave it be, until I get back."

Bucky sulks at him, but gives a curt, grumpy nod, which is all the affirmation Tony needs to back completely out the door.

He pokes his head back in before it closes, though, adding a quick "And whatever you do, don't let Dum-E touch it either!" before dashing back out.

Dum-E beeps sadly after him. Bucky gives him a reassuring pat on the claw, then walks over to where U is trying - and failing - to sweep up the mess from the blast.

* * *

Tony is in a noticeably bad mood when he returns a few minutes later, a slice of pizza in one hand and a box in the other, but his face softens when he sees Bucky with the bots.

They haven't made any headway with the cleanup - largely due to the bots' refusal to relinquish the broom and dustpan to Bucky - but Steve has to admit the scene is still oddly sweet, with Bucky patiently trying to coax U into pushing the mess into his trashcan instead of Dum-E's upside-down dustpan. It's a lost cause and, from his expression, Bucky knows it. He perks up when he sees Tony appear, standing and making his way over to him, though not before giving each bot a friendly pat.

He falters when he gets closer, picking up on Tony's mood immediately. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Tony mumbles, fumbling with the box until Bucky takes it and places it on the table for him, and waving his now-free hand dismissively. "Stuff with Obie and the board. Not important. This is for you," he adds, handing the slice of pizza off to Bucky.

Bucky sniffs it curiously and takes a cautious nibble, then another larger, much more enthusiastic bite.

Tony grins at him while he pulls up specs of his project, eyes twinkling knowingly.

"JARVIS, go ahead and order a pizza - maybe make that a couple of pizzas. With a bunch of toppings, just surprise us. But make sure there's pepperoni, I have a craving. Now here's what I'm thinking on the hand repulsors-".

"What's in the box?" Bucky asks around a mouthful of pizza before Tony can descend any further into his calculations and techno babble, tapping the box in question.

"Eh? Oh, that. Nothing, Pepper being sentimental." he replies with a half-hearted shrug. "But more importantly…" He looks up from his specs and wiggled his eyebrows. "You ready to see me fly?"

Bucky pops the rest of his crust in his mouth.

"I don't think anyone is," he says gravely, making Steve laugh and Tony squawk indignantly.

* * *

"Day eleven, test thirty-seven, configuration two-point-oh. For lack of a better option, Dum-E is back on fire safety since _somebody_ -" Tony glares at Bucky. "-is even more trigger-happy with the fire extinguisher than he is."

Steve snickers. He still isn't sure if Bucky was truly afraid Tony was going to spontaneously combust or if he thought the foam would somehow cushion Tony's fall, but either way it had been the highlight of Steve's week. Perhaps Bucky had just found it as funny as Steve did.

Tony holds his arms out, pointing one finger at Dum-E and one at Bucky.

"And if _either_ of you douse me and I'm not on fire, I'm dumping you both off at a city college with alphabet magnets super-glued to your arms. Capiche?"

Dum-E beeps cheerfully and Bucky clears his throat in a vaguely-affirmative manner, which seem to satisfy Tony.

"Okay, good. Now that that's settled...we're seriously gonna start off with just 1% thrust capacity."

He takes a deep breath and stands firm, arms out and down on either side of him. Bucky tenses, fingers digging into his biceps.

"In three...two...one…"

And that's it. The thrusters go off, and Tony...hovers, just a few feet off the ground and in place, but in the air none the less. He cuts the power and drops, landing on his feet and keeping his balance, but Bucky is there in a flash anyway to steady him.

Tony catches his eye, shit-eating grin firmly in place.

"And that's how it's done," he says, smugly.

* * *

Tony's next flight test is even more successful, if not more stressful. He hovers around the room a bit while Bucky and Steve follow along, Steve wincing every time Tony floats over anything that looks remotely painful to land on and Bucky looking as though he is two seconds from grabbing onto Tony's ankles and yanking him back down to the relative safety of the ground.

It gives Steve flashbacks of when Tony was learning to walk, and would cheerfully barrel towards anything remotely interesting until he'd literally smack into it.

Doubly so when Tony decides to test-fly the whole armor.

"Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk," Tony says in response to JARVIS's protests, making Steve groan.

"Wait," Bucky says quickly before Tony can take off.

He walks over and knocks against the helmet a few times, then nods once to himself, satisfied, and steps back. "Okay."

Tony turns to him, the blankness of the helmet making his face inscrutable.

"You have a problem," is all he says, and then he's off.

And, much like the time Tony barreled into Maria's china cabinet, things go rapidly downhill from there.

* * *

A lot of yelling, a hole in the ceiling, a smashed piano, and a totalled car later finds Tony sprawled across the workshop couch, armor-free, while Bucky alternates between swearing and fussing over him.

"- coulda died, you idiot, I -"

"- I had everything under control! I -"

" - can't follow your punk-ass into the air, how am I supposed to look out for you - "

" - don't need looking after it, I'm a genius, and - "

" - when you don't listen. It's like you're _trying_ to get yourself killed - "

" - I even had a helmet! What more do you want from me?!"

" - and what was I supposed to do if you'd died?!" Bucky shouts, breathing hard.

The first-aid kit he has sitting in his lap falls to the ground as he stands, movements jerky, and rubs a shaking hand over his face and through his hair. His eyes are wild, reminding Steve of those first few weeks after he'd broken away from HYDRA, before he'd found Tony. Bucky isn't just angry - he's terrified.

Tony must see it, too, because he scrambles off the couch - all surly indignation gone - and walks over to him, pressing his hand between Bucky's shoulder blades and rubbing up and down his back soothingly.

"Hey, shhh, it's okay. I'm fine, see?" Tony murmurs, sounding more panicked than comforting.

Despite the situation, Steve chuckles. Only Tony would find trying to comfort someone more frightening than falling thousands of feet out of the air.

"Look, I didn't die, so everything is cool. Plus we know what bugs to work out of the system, right, JARVIS?"

"Indeed, Sir." JARVIS answers, sounding peeved to Steve's ears.

Bucky gives Tony a dirty look.

"You screamed pretty loud for everything to be okay." he says sullenly, but some of the wildness has gone out of his eyes, and he is leveling Tony with The Look again, lips pressed together in a hard line.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tony declares, turning away.

Bucky grabs his arm before he can, though.

"You're really...okay?" he asks carefully, eyes roaming over Tony in a way that reminds Steve less of Bucky checking him over after a fight and more of dance halls with pretty dames.

Tony pats Bucky's shoulder, smiling reassuringly. "Fit as a fiddle." he says lightly. "It's gonna take more than that to get rid of me, Bucko."

Bucky's whole body goes rigid, his face paling and dropping all expression. He takes a step back, letting go of Tony's arm, and sways ominously.

Tony darts forward and steadies him, looking up into his face, alarmed. "Hey, are you-"

Before he can finish his sentence Bucky passes out against him, taking them both down in a heap of tangled limbs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Oh thank God," Tony mumbles a few minutes later when Bucky comes back around. "You have got to stop doing that!"

Bucky blinks up at him, confused. "What?"

Steve sits back on his heels, relieved, while Tony makes a face.

"This!" Tony exclaims, gesturing to Bucky, sprawled out on the floor with his head in Tony's lap. "The whole fainting-on-me-in-the-middle-of-my-workshop thing!"

He's trying to sound irritated, but Steve can read the relief and worry in his body language.

"...Sorry?" Bucky says, still disoriented, rubbing his face with his flesh hand.

It seems to suddenly occur to him that he's lying down in Tony's lap, because he bolts to a sitting position, nearly smacking his and Tony's heads together, and lists drunkenly to the side, clutching his head. Tony wraps his arms around him before he falls over and pulls him up against his shoulder, hand carefully cradling the back of Bucky's head.

"Careful," he says, lightly tapping Bucky's head with his index finger. "We don't know what's wrong with you, and I've been on enough drunken benders to know sitting up that fast either makes you dizzy or throw up or both, and I don't think you clonked your head on anything besides me on the way down, but-"

Bucky reaches out and clenches his fingers tight in the fabric of Tony's shirt, burying his face in Tony's shoulder and slumping against him. Tony shuts up like he's been slapped, his whole body going tense, then closes his eyes and relaxes into the embrace, carefully carding his fingers through the hair at the nape of Bucky's neck.

Steve is just starting to wonder if Bucky has passed out again when he mumbles something unintelligible into Tony's shoulder, piquing Steve's curiosity despite his better sense telling him he should leave and give the two some privacy.

"What?" Tony asks, brows furrowed, and nudges Bucky's head back up.

Bucky swallows visibly, looking dazed. "Bucky," he croaks, and suddenly Steve's vision goes white around the edges, a pressure settling on his chest like an asthma attack he knows he isn't having. "My name is Bucky."

"Oh," Tony says, a strange look crossing his face before it changes to a small, tentative smile. Bucky returns the expression, albeit more hesitant. "Hey, Bucky. I'm Tony."

A noise tears its way out of Bucky - a sound that could either be a sob or a laugh - and he collapses against Tony, shaking, with what Steve doesn't know. He feels close to collapse himself, and leans in close to them, knowing he's intruding on something private but not caring at the moment.

His best friend remembers his name after nearly seven decades, and that's all that matters in the world.

They stay huddled together on the workshop floor for a while - long enough for Steve to start feeling uncomfortable, incorporeal body or not - but they still don't move, even though Steve knows Tony must be sore from his fall earlier. It's silent but for the sounds of their breathing and the occasional beep from one of the bots, almost peaceful.

It's a nice moment...right up until Tony ruins it by saying "So...what kind of backwoods, hillbilly name is Bucky?"

* * *

Eventually the floor proves too much for Tony, who suggests moving after complaining about his ass losing circulation. Once he and Bucky have helped each other to the couch in an awkward shuffle of sleeping limbs, Tony - in an ironic role-reversal - takes it upon himself to try and bully Bucky into eating something and going up to bed. Bucky turns down the food - even Tony's offer of pizza, which they have both discovered is Bucky's favorite - and refuses to go upstairs, but he does start dozing on the couch. Tony stays with him, turning on the tv and pulling up specs of the armor, discussing with JARVIS how to fix the icing problem.

Steve zones out for a little while, trying to sort out the hodgepodge of his emotions. He feels...odd, both heavy and light in ways he can't pinpoint. As delighted as he is with the progress Bucky has made, for reasons he can't fathom he still feels inexplicably uneasy.

If he's being truthful with himself, he thinks a part of it might be Tony and Bucky's ever-evolving relationship. Not that he's surprised by it; Bucky and Tony had been building up to whatever it is since they'd met, and he'd have to be blind not to see the signs in the two people he'd grown to read better than anyone else in the world. He'd been happy, even, when he'd first started noticing it, because he knew them, and knew how well they could be together. He doesn't mind it, even hopes for it, except…

Except, deep down, a dark part of him doesn't want to share. He loves these two people more than anything in the universe, wants nothing more than for them to be happy - but he can't help feeling jealous, too. His Bucky, his best friend in the whole world, and his Tony, the boy he'd grown to love like a son…

If they had each other, where did that leave him?

He'd gotten through nearly seventy years stuck on this earth by loving them and being there for them when no one else was, and he knew that with each other, they wouldn't - didn't - need him anymore.

He'd have to let go, and he's not sure he's ready for that.

When Steve tunes back in to the world around him, Tony is crouched low over the couch by Bucky, mouth in a tense line. He hesitates before he reaches out to touch Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky's eyes are open almost before Tony makes contact with him.

"Hey, no, don't get up," Tony says, pressing back against Bucky's chest. Bucky frowns and moves so he's sitting up on his elbow anyway, but doesn't move any further.

"Somethin' wrong?" Bucky asks, still sounding tired, and Steve is suddenly taken with just how little Bucky has actually slept since breaking away from HYDRA. Originally he'd thought it was by design, or because Bucky didn't need as much - the super-soldier serum had had a similar effect on Steve, back in the day - but now he wonders if he simply _couldn't_ sleep.

"I've gotta go take care of something," Tony says, oddly tentative, his free hand beating a staccato rhythm against the arc reactor. "Are you going to be okay if I leave for a few hours?"

Bucky tenses almost imperceptibly, his flesh hand coming up to grip Tony's forearm in what Steve thinks is an unconscious gesture.

"I shouldn't be gone long, and JARVIS is here if you need anything." Tony adds. He twists his arm until Bucky's grip slackens, but instead of pulling completely free he catches Bucky's hand in his and gives it a squeeze.

"If you don't want me to go, I can stay." he says softly, staring straight into Bucky's eyes with an intensity that makes Steve look away, feeling warm and a little embarrassed.

Bucky swallows. "No, I'll...I'll be okay." he says carefully, pulling his hand back and clenching it into a fist in his lap.

Something Steve can't quite identify flickers in Tony's expression, but before he can dwell on it Tony is already halfway across the room, walking towards the stairs and talking over his shoulder.

"JARVIS, go ahead and throw a little hotrod red into that render and fabricate it while I'm gone, okay? U, Dum-E, behave yourselves, and remember - no getting handsy with unconscious people on the couch." He pauses at the doorway, hand resting against the glass. "Oh, and, uh, Bucky?" he says, faltering slightly at the name and turning back towards the couch. "Get some rest while I'm gone, okay?"

Bucky blinks owlishly and nods, once. Tony gives a small, relieved little smile and winks at him, and then he's dashing up the stairs, talking rapidly to JARVIS while Bucky watches unhappily, his flesh hand digging into the back of the couch.

* * *

Bucky surprises Steve by actually taking Tony's advice and drifting back off to sleep, his face pressed into the blanket Tony left on the couch. He thinks it's likely due to a perceived lack of anything better to do in Tony's absence rather than an actual want for sleep, though.

Steve keeps him in sight by sitting on the coffee table, feeling some of his earlier tension drain away. After years of watching Bucky's lifeless form in the cryochamber though a tiny window, he finds Bucky's snores soothing.

He watches in amusement as Dum-E blatantly ignores Tony's reminder and pokes at Bucky a few times, then switches to trying to pull the blanket out from under him in what appears to be a misguided attempt to cover him with the it. The bot eventually rolls off when Bucky doesn't budge, but comes back with one of Tony's grimy hoodies and throws that over him instead, beeping triumphantly.

Steve chuckles, both surprised and pleased Bucky is sleeping deep enough that the bot's antics aren't disturbing him. On a whim he follows Dum-E over to the wreckage of the car Tony smashed earlier and amuses himself by watching the bots scoot the mess around and otherwise make it worse. He's not certain, but he thinks Dum-E is likely trying to find the biggest, shiniest piece to give to Bucky when he wakes up.

There's a crash from across the room that makes Steve jump and the bots swivel their claws around. Steve's stomach lurches when he looks over at the couch and sees Bucky curled up on the ground, arms tucked protectively against his stomach and shaking like a leaf.

"Bucky?" Steve gasps, at Bucky's side in an instant. Bucky groans and trembles harder, his flesh hand scrambling for purchase on the hard floor.

"Sir, are you alright?" JARVIS asks, his soothing tones grounding Steve and calming him a little. "My sensors indicate your vitals have elevated to an unhealthy level. Would you like me to call Sir?"

"No, I'm - " Bucky chokes, then shudders, pressing his face into the floor. "- okay. Nightmare." he slurs, pulling himself up to a sitting position and wincing, pressing his metal hand to his forehead. He slowly opens his eyes, his lower lip trembling. "No, not a nightmare. A...memory." he says, tightly, his breaths coming out impossibly faster.

Steve grimaces, a thousand memories coming to him unbidden: Bucky, falling from Zola's train. The surgery to 'fix' Bucky's arm. The mindwipe. The cryochamber. The dozens of kills Bucky has done in his time as the Winter Soldier.

Any one of those memories are enough to give Bucky nightmares for the rest of his life; yet, with Bucky's next words, Steve realizes it's the one memory that will hurt him the most right now.

"JARVIS?" Bucky croaks, flesh hand twisting into Tony's hoodie. "Who are Howard and Maria Stark?"

Steve's stomach twists. _Oh God_.

If Steve hadn't been around JARVIS since he'd been created, he'd never have known JARVIS hesitates before he answers Bucky.

"They are Sir's mother and father." he says, pulling up a few holograms - each with several photos of Tony's parents, mostly Howard in varying stages of his life.

Bucky stares at the image in front of him, of Howard and Maria, standing with a teenaged Tony. His breath hitches.

"H-how did they die?" Bucky asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Not when or if - how.

"Bucky…" Steve tries, helplessly.

JARVIS doesn't answer verbally, instead pulling up the image of a newspaper dated December 17, 1991. The headline reads 'HOWARD AND MARIA STARK DIE IN CAR ACCIDENT ON LONG ISLAND'.

Steve watches Bucky's face drain of color. He shoots upward, tripping over the hoodie and colliding with a work table, knocking several tools astray. He makes it to the tiny workshop bathroom just in time to heave into the toilet bowel, collapsing to his knees in front of it and ignoring JARVIS's call of alarm.

"I'm so sorry, Buck." Steve whispers miserably, crouching down beside him.

He wishes Tony were here to help him, but at the same time wonders if that would make things worse, given the memory. Bucky looks very close to hyperventilating.

"Mr. Bucky," JARVIS says, sharply, making both Bucky and Steve jump.

Steve blinks, dumbfounded, because 'Mr. Bucky' is not something you hear every day. At any other time it might have been funny, and he's shocked enough that he almost misses the rest of the A.I.'s sentence.

"I fear I must call Sir and tell him if you are unwell-"

"Don't!" Bucky gasps, panicked, pulling himself to a standing position. "I can't- he shouldn't-"

He shudders, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as tears fall freely down his face.

"I can't be around him." he whispers, choking on a sob.

Steve can practically hear a heart breaking into a million pieces, and he doesn't even know if it's Bucky's, Tony's, or his.

* * *

Bucky bolts.

He tells JARVIS he's going for a walk to get some fresh air and clear his head, but Steve can tell he's lying. He's sure JARVIS can, too, but Tony had specifically forbidden him from keeping Bucky locked in against his will shortly after he arrived, so the A.I. has no choice but to let him go.

The only things Bucky takes with him are a hoodie and a cracked piece of mirror from the car Tony had trashed, both offered to him by Dum-E on his way out. The hoodie is the same dingy thing the bot had tried to cover him with earlier, and he slides it on with red-rimmed eyes, putting the glass in his pocket.

"Thank you." he mutters, and gives Dum-E one last pat before he leaves, hand lingering on his strut.

Steve goes with him. He thinks of Tony and feels a pang in his chest, but he doesn't want to leave Bucky alone right now. He knows he can go back and forth between them with a simple thought anyway, but it still makes him feel guilty, like he's picking one over the other.

Especially when he checks in on Tony a few hours later, just in time to hear JARVIS tell Tony about Bucky. He can tell Tony is already upset by something - something else must have happened wherever it was Tony went - but he takes the news of Bucky's departure like a physical blow.

"If I may say so, Sir, perhaps he will return when he's feeling less...distressed." JARVIS suggests dolefully.

"Y-yeah, sure." Tony says, collapsing onto the couch, face in his hands. "I mean, he lasted this long without getting sick of me, right?" From the despondency in his voice, though, he's not holding out much hope.

"Sir, there is something else that might interest you," JARVIS adds - hesitantly, Steve thinks.

Tony looks up, his face pinched. "What is it, JARVIS?"

JARVIS still sounds hesitant when he answers. "Well, Sir...before he left, our guest was asking questions concerning your mother and father."

Steve winces as Tony stills, his knuckles going white as he grips his knees. "And?" he asks in the carefully blank tone of voice he tends to use when mentioning Howard.

"He seemed most devastated when he learned of their passing - particularly when he discovered how they passed, Sir."

Tony swallowed, his eyes glazing over. "Is that all?"

Again JARVIS hesitates, then says "The line of questioning started after he awoke from a nightmare. One that he admitted he thought might be a memory."

Tony's brow crinkles in confusion. "That...doesn't make any sense, JARVIS. Are you sure you didn't mishear him?"

"I can show you my surveillance footage of the incident if you'd like, Sir." JARVIS replies, gently.

Tony flinches almost imperceptibly, looking down at his clasped hands. "No, JARVIS, I, uh, I don't think can right now." he says in a small voice. "Maybe, maybe later."

 _When it doesn't hurt so much_ , goes unsaid, though Steve knows Tony is thinking it.

Steve has to close his eyes at the open sadness and loss in Tony's voice, his throat closing up at the sheer unfairness of it all. In a perfect world he'd be able to go out and give the guy who'd just broken his kid's heart a good ass-kicking, and under any other circumstances maybe he would, but this isn't that simple. Bucky is as much a victim in this as Tony, if not more, and it isn't Bucky's fault.

The two people he loves most in the world are hurting, and once again, Steve can't do anything about it.

He just wants them - both of them - to be happy.

"Oh dear God," Tony groans suddenly into the silence of the room. "Please don't let him be my illegitimate half-brother."

Steve snorts out a muffled laugh despite his mood and Tony's obvious horror, a wave of affection coursing through him as Tony starts panicking and demanding JARVIS do DNA testing Steve is certain the A.I. can't actually do.

Sighing, he brushes a hand over Tony's hair, wishing he could feel it, and wills himself to Bucky's side.

As much as he wants to stay for Tony, his best friend needs him, too.

* * *

The next few days make Bucky's chaotic first few weeks away from HYDRA look like a cakewalk.

It starts with the breakdown Bucky has once he gets out of sight of Tony's house, falling to his knees and bawling his eyes out. He hyperventilates again until he passes out, but wakes up before Steve can really panic, and pulls himself together long enough to get himself to the nearest city.

Once there, he breaks into a liquor store and drinks - a lot. After imbibing enough to give any normal person alcohol poisoning and more, he passes out again, this time in a dirty back alley, only to wake up screaming a few hours later from another memory-turned-nightmare.

It isn't the last, either.

Steve doesn't know if time is finally catching up with him and the HYDRA programming is failing, or if Bucky's sudden remembrance of his name is a trigger, but either way, the damage is done and the floodgates have been opened: Bucky is remembering.

Bucky is remembering, and watching it happen is almost as bad as watching him lose himself to begin with - especially when Bucky starts to realize the extent of the damage done to him, on top of what he himself has done to others.

Steve doesn't know if it's days or hours after they've left Tony when Bucky steals a laptop - his computer skills greatly improved after a few weeks under Tony's wing - and looks up 'James Buchanan Barnes' on the internet.

There's a picture of Steve beside Bucky, one that had to have been picked out of one of the old newsreels, black and white with both of them in uniform. Bucky stares at it for a long time, reads several of the articles that come up, and then he falls into another horrible, tearful breakdown, with Steve sobbing right along beside him.

Steve wonders if he still would have spent all those years wishing Bucky would remember and come back to himself if he'd realized how painful it was going to be.

* * *

Wrung out, Steve goes and checks on Tony while Bucky's unconscious again, and finds him angrily working on his suit, which is now a very flashy red and gold. Despite everything and the mood Tony is in, Steve still finds himself smiling.

Only Tony.

* * *

Several more nightmares and another liquor store later, Bucky is sitting on a rocky hillside overlooking the California coastline, staring out into Pacific Ocean with haunted eyes. He'd tried - and failed - to drink himself stupid again, and his proximity to the cliff's edge combined with the alcohol in his system is doing nothing for Steve's nerves.

"Stop that." Bucky growls suddenly, grip tightening on the bottle he's holding.

Steve sighs wearily. While Bucky talking to himself isn't necessarily new, it isn't a good sign, either, and most certainly isn't helping Steve's anxiety.

At least it was in English, this time. It's worse when Steve can't understand him.

"This is partially your fault, anyway." Bucky adds, taking a long pull from his bottle and wobbling unsteadily to his feet.

Steve blanches, hoping this means Bucky is preparing to leave rather than throw himself into the ocean he'd been eyeing longingly.

Suddenly Bucky spins and pitches the bottle, which crashes into the rocks right beside Steve and shatters into pieces. Steve jumps, startled, and looks up at Bucky, who is staring in his direction with wide, wild eyes.

"Just leave me the hell alone!" he all but screams, his breaths coming out dangerously close to sobs.

Steve stops, his mouth parting slightly. His ears start ringing, and he realizes his breathing has quickened, nearly matching Bucky's frantic pants.

"I know you're out here, you've always been here, you-" Bucky chokes, hunching over himself, his hands held protectively over his middle.

Steve clenches his fists, willing himself not to cry. No, no it can't be. He'd gotten his hopes up before, Bucky can't see him, he couldn't...

"Bucky?" he whispers despite himself, feeling faint. _Please_ , he doesn't say. His heart couldn't take any more false hope.

"I thought I was imagining it, making it up to, to cope, or -" Bucky swallows. "It happened before, back, back in that place, the first time, with, with Zola." He shudders, then, while the roaring in Steve's ears steadily increases. "But then you came chargin' in, larger than life and wearing that stupid costume, and, and I knew. Didn't matter if you didn't look the same, or how impossible it was for you to be there - I knew it was you, the real you, because I could feel it."

Steve finds himself swaying. _Almost seventy years_ , he thinks, his chest constricting painfully.

"You've been here the whole time." Bucky continues, sucking in a sharp breath. "I can't see you, or hear you, but I can feel you." He lifts his hand - his flesh hand - and fists it on his chest, over his heart. "I can feel you, right here."

The ground rushes up around Steve, the world tilting, and then he realizes he's on his knees.

"Stubborn punk," Bucky adds, his lip quivering. "Only you could take 'til the end of the line' so fucking literally."

Steve feels time disappear, the last few decades melting away to nothing, and suddenly he's standing on the steps to his old apartment, a much taller Bucky smiling down at him with a hand on his shoulder, eyes twinkling.

He thinks of all the things he'd wanted to say to Bucky over the years, thinks of a million other things he wants to say now - but settles on the first thing that comes to mind.

"Well it's about damn time," Steve says, tears pricking his eyes. "It took you long enough, you jerk."

And then he's laughing, and crying, and when he looks up Bucky is, too, only Bucky's sobs are interspaced with "It's okay, Stevie, I'm sorry, it's okay-" and that just sets Steve off even more.

It's been a very long time since anyone has been there to comfort Steve, instead of the other way around.

Eventually they calm down, subsiding into little hiccups instead of the hysterical laughing/crying they'd been doing. They're both lying down on their backs, staring up at the sky like they used to when they were kids. Steve looks over at Bucky, whose face is tired and worn; he looks like he's aged ten years since leaving Tony's, and who can say? Maybe he has - perhaps gaining several decades worth of memories will do that to a person.

Steve feels strung out, but it doesn't feel bad - more like a weight has been lifted. Bucky can't see or hear him, but he finds he doesn't mind; he at least knows Steve is there, and that's enough.

"I'm still pissed at you, you know." Bucky says finally, scrubbing a hand over his face and sitting up, diminishing Steve's mood a little. "I'm so fucking pissed at you, Stevie."

Something warm floods through Steve at being addressed directly, though it's immediately chased by confusion and more than a little indignation once the rest of Bucky's words catch up with him.

Bucky must be able to feel it, too, since he answers before Steve can even ask the question.

"Tony." he says, and there is so much love, and anguish, and devotion, and a thousand other things in that one word that it makes Steve's head spin.

"Tony?" Steve repeats, knowing Bucky will be able to sense the question.

Bucky growls, jumping to his feet. "You're the one who pushed me towards him!" he fumes, stomping a few feet away and then turning back around, glaring furiously at - well, the space about two feet from where Steve actually is, but he'll take it. "I never would have gone looking for him otherwise, never would have met him -" He chokes the last part out, as though even the thought hurts him, and clenches his fists. "How could you?"

Steve is starting to see what the problem - or, at least, what Bucky perceives as the problem - is, and sighs, standing up and moving over to the space Bucky is talking to.

It's been a long time since he's been yelled at, and he wants the full experience before the novelty wears off.

"You keep saying it like meeting Tony was a bad thing." Steve says, projecting as much exasperation as he can. "And I gotta say, after seeing you two together, I don't see how it can be."

Bucky squares his jaw and hunches his shoulders, his eyes angry and haunted. "You know what I've done, what I could have done to him!" he snaps. "I'm not safe! I went into his house with enough weaponry to take out a strike team - I've got his friggin' kitchen knife down my pants right now, for Christ's sake!"

"Tony would probably like to hear that," Steve remarks before he can think better of it, and remembers Bucky can't hear him anyway.

Bucky must still get the gist of it, though, because his face flushes. "I don't understand why you'd want me anywhere near him." he says, looking down at his clenched fists. "I remember some of those stories you used to tell me. I can feel how much you care about him. You love him, too, how could you-"

Bucky freezes, his eyes widening as the realization of what he just said hits him.

"Yeah, I do." Steve says, firmly. "I do love him, _too_." He makes sure to put as much feeling and emphasis on the word as possible, and watches in satisfaction as Bucky picks up on it and flinches. "But I also love you, Bucky - and running away from him isn't protecting him, and it isn't helping you any, either. You and Tony - You're good for each other. I've never seen Tony like that with anyone else, period, and you...it's not a coincidence you started getting better once you were with him. I had nothing to do with that."

"I murdered his parents," Bucky hisses, angry tears making their way down his face. "And I would have killed him, too, if they'd ordered me to."

Steve feels something cold settle in his stomach at the thought, something he must project because Bucky flinches back, but he shakes it off.

"But you didn't," Steve says softly, reassuring himself as much as Bucky. "And it wasn't your fault, Bucky. Tony will understand that."

Bucky swallows and closes his eyes, dropping his head. "I murdered his parents." he repeats in a small voice. "How do I - I can't, I can't go back and tell him. I can't hurt him like that."

"Being alone hurts you both now, Buck." Steve says gently. "You think you're the only one heartbroken, here?"

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath and hugs himself, everything in his body language screaming misery. He's quiet for a long time, biting his lip, before he mumbles "...has he been eating?"

"Probably not," Steve grumbles, throwing his hands in the air and pushing as much irritability at Bucky as possible. "I doubt he's sleeping, either. Wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to drink as much as you have, too, or something else equally reckless-"

"Okay okay, stop, you're making my head hurt." Bucky says, wincing and throwing a hand out to halt him. "We're both idiots, you're mad at us, I get it."

"Yeah, well, you're my idiots." Steve sniffs.

Bucky rewards him with a watery smile, picking up the grumpy affection, and then sniffles and wipes futilely at his eyes.

"What do I tell him?" Bucky whispers, tugging on the strings of the hoodie he's wearing - Tony's hoodie, which he hasn't taken off since leaving Tony's.

'The truth,' Steve is about to say, but before he can open his mouth there's a searing, screaming pain in his chest, right over his heart, that has him gasping and falling to his knees.

Bucky's head whips up in alarm. "Steve?" he calls sharply. "Steve!"

 _Tony_ , Steve thinks, digging his hand into his chest. The last time he'd felt anything close to this had been Afghanistan, when Tony was hurt. This, though, feels much, much worse - like a red-hot poker being stabbed into his chest.

"Something's wrong," he gasps out through gritted teeth. "Something's...something's wrong with Tony."

Bucky has stepped closer now, his eyes wide and fearful. "What's wrong?"

"Tony," Steve hisses, doubled over in agony. "You need to get to Tony, _right now_."

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath, going from alarmed to terrified in an instant. "What's wrong with Tony? Steve! Is he hurt? What's wrong with Tony?!" he yells, frantic.

"Just get to Tony!" Steve shouts, giving into the pain and letting himself be pulled to Tony. Bucky's panicked face is the last thing he sees before he squeezes his eyes shut.

* * *

The pain doesn't stop when Steve gets to Tony. If nothing else it gets worse once he sets eyes on him, lying on the ground in the workshop with Dum-E hovering over him. He looks like death warmed-over, terrifyingly pale, his hands shaking as he puts the arc reactor - a thing Steve is very sure should never, ever be removed, it's keeping Tony alive, _what the hell is it doing not there to begin with?_ \- back into his chest.

Steve's brain stutters to a complete halt once he comprehends what he's seeing, and before he can even think about it he yelps a very shrill "What the _hell_ did you take that out for?!"

Tony fumbles with the arc reactor before finally slotting it into place, then blinks, dazed, and slumps against the workbench behind him.

Steve sinks down beside him, shaken, and starts counting Tony's breaths, making sure he's still conscious and not…

He shudders, refusing to finish the thought, and tilts his head back against the workbench.

"You know, when I said you were probably doing something reckless while Bucky was gone, I was being rhetorical, not issuing a challenge." Steve says warily as Tony stirs, blinking himself back to semi-consciousness.

Steve thinks he sees Tony's eyes dart over to where he's sitting, but before they can really focus on anything Rhodey comes busting into the workshop, calling Tony's name, and suddenly it's all business.

Which is how Steve discovers he has once again underestimated just how much trouble Tony Stark can get into when left to his own devices.

Apparently, Obadiah Stane is a crazy, double-dealing scumbag, Pepper Potts is in danger, and there's an attack on Stark Industries - which is Stane's doing.

Steve is shocked to hear about Stane, which is quickly followed by guilt for not noticing anything amiss beforehand. True, he himself had never really liked the man, but never in a million years would he have guessed he'd betray Tony like this - and if it had blindsided Steve, it must have floored Tony. Steve can't imagine how much it must be affecting him. Steve should have known, or at least kept a better eye on him.

While the betrayal has Steve seeing red, though, it is nothing compared to the white-hot, pulsing fury he feels when he finds out Stane - Tony's godfather, his mentor, and man who was supposed to be protecting him - just tried to kill Tony by ripping his arc reactor right out of his chest.

Only one thing allows Steve to calm down: the knowledge that while he may not have a body with which he can effectively strangle Stane, Bucky, fortunately, does - and Steve is going to make very sure he finds out about it.

All in all, the only thing Steve can think of as he watches Tony fly off in the armor to stop Stane is that he is never, ever leaving Tony alone again.

* * *

It takes Bucky three hours to get to Malibu - which is two more hours than Steve expected, and three less than it should have taken.

Steve supposes he should be thankful Bucky contented himself with stealing a motorcycle rather than a helicopter.

He doesn't bother with subtlety, just runs through the open and unlocked back door, calling Tony's name.

"I'm afraid he's not here at the moment, sir." JARVIS answers him, and Steve knows he isn't imaging the note of relief in the program's usually stoic tones. "Though I must say, I do believe he will be most pleased to hear of your return."

At the first hint of noise Bucky had drawn his gun, and though he has it lowered by the time JARVIS is done speaking, he still doesn't relax.

"JARVIS, where is he? Is he okay?" Bucky asks, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Unfortunately I am unable to inform you precisely what transpired, as I was temporarily indisposed for a short period and am still not functioning at full capacity." JARVIS informs him regretfully. "As to your other inquiries, however…"

The television on the far wall clicks on, with full news coverage of the attack on Stark Industries. Bucky jumps, coming very close to shooting it before the headline catches his attention.

"Tony?" he asks anxiously. "Tony is there? I don't understand, what's going on?"

"Yes, Sir is currently at Stark Industries headquarters. There was an...altercation there, which required his attention." JARVIS says.

Bucky frowns, picking up on everything JARVIS isn't saying. "But is he okay?" he demands, narrowing his eyes at the TV. "Is he hurt?"

"Sir is...mostly unharmed." JARVIS replies, and while Steve can see not wanting to lie, he thinks perhaps JARVIS could have worded that a little differently if he'd wanted to reassure Bucky.

"He's alright, Buck." Steve says, taking pity on him and sending as many soothing feelings as he can. It must work, because Bucky slumps in relief, the tension draining out of his neck and shoulders, leaving him looking haggard.

"He should be returning home shortly. Shall I let him know you've returned?" JARVIS suggests mildly, once Bucky has staggered over to the bar to lean against it.

"No!" Bucky cries, then winces, apparently picking up Steve's ire and says, much softer, "No, not...not yet, JARVIS. I'm not staying."

"I see." JARVIS says, summarizing Steve's thoughts on the matter as well. He thinks if JARVIS had a face, he'd be glaring disapprovingly, so Steve does it for him in solidarity, even if Bucky can't see that, either.

"I'm not leaving, either." Bucky adds in irritation, giving the corner Steve is occupying the stink-eye. "At least, not completely. I'll be...I'll be around. I promise." Steve thinks that part is more for him than JARVIS. "I can't...I need to get my head on straight before I can face Tony again. But I promise, I'm not leaving him again. Not," He swallows. "Not unless he wants me to."

There's silence while JARVIS and Steve mull that over, which JARVIS breaks by saying "Going by Sir's behavior as of late, I highly doubt he will, Mr. Bucky."

Bucky blinks and bows his head, fighting to compose himself. Steve can't tell if he's caught out by the raw sentiment in the statement or JARVIS's use of 'Mr. Bucky'.

"Thanks, JARVIS." Bucky says gruffly, and clears his throat. "But, uh, can you do me one more favor, and not tell Tony I was here?"

There's a long pause.

"I'm afraid I may not be able to comply. After your abrupt...departure, Sir tasked me with keeping an eye on your whereabouts. If I found anyone matching your description, I was to alert him immediately. The only reason I haven't already is the slight discrepancy in my programming at present." JARVIS says, sounding contrite.

Bucky's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "He was...looking for me?"

"Most intently, sir. We were quite concerned for your safety. Dum-E, especially, has been asking after you."

Steve takes note of the 'we', and from the mix of emotions on Bucky's face, he does, too.

"Okay, how about this," Bucky says when he can finally bring himself to speak. "Give me twenty-four hours. A whole day where you don't tell him I'm here while I keep an eye on him, and after that you can tell him whatever you want, no matter where I am. Deal?"

There's another pause as JARVIS considers.

"That sounds acceptable." he says finally. "Though only if you promise to remain within Sir's vicinity and look out for him while my security measures are comprised. And I speak not only for Sir, but also the bots and myself, when I say we would all rather prefer it if you would remain here still after the allotted day has passed."

The small, crooked smile Bucky flashes is gone almost as soon as it appears. "If Tony will have me, you have my word." he says, then chuckles and looks around the room, his gaze stopping at the TV. "Besides, look at all the trouble he gets himself into when I'm not around. No, I'm not letting him out of my sight."

"Quite," JARVIS agrees, sounding much more world-weary than Steve thinks any person - let alone a digital person - should.

* * *

Bucky remains on the property all evening, mostly prowling the perimeter and aiming his gun at anything that so much as twitches wrong, though he does stop in and say hi to the bots before Tony comes home.

Dum-E is very excited to see him, and tries to give him three screwdrivers, a hat, and a smoothie made of lettuce and motor oil. Bucky accepts everything - including the smoothie, though he casually dumps it down the sink when Dum-E isn't paying attention, and quietly asks U to hide the blender until he can clean it. They beep pitifully when Bucky starts to leave the workshop, and Dum-E doesn't stop clinging to the end of his shirt until JARVIS tells the bot off and Bucky promises he'll come back.

Bucky stays outside once Tony comes home with Pepper and Rhodey in tow, but Steve doesn't miss the long, relieved sigh that escapes him once he sets eyes on Tony, nor the way the set of his shoulders relax.

Bucky doesn't sleep at all that night, but Steve still thinks he looks more rested than he had the entire time he'd been gone.

* * *

"I am Iron Man."

Steve is at Tony's side as those soon-to-be famous words are uttered, grinning like a loon while all hell breaks loose amongst the assembled press. He can see the various expressions of aggravation, embarrassment, and wariness on the faces of Tony's entourage when he glances over at them, and sees the very minute way Tony's face falls when he notices them, too.

Steve squares his jaw and leans in towards Tony; if there's one thing Bucky as taught him over the last few days, it's that his words don't have to be heard so much as felt.

"Good job," he murmurs in Tony's ear, as Pepper and the bland Agent Coulson try to usher him away from the microphone. If they won't say it, he will. "I'm proud of you."

Tony smiles to himself, a private thing, sending a wave of warmth through Steve.

He remembers what it was like to wake up one day as everyone's hero just by trying to do the right thing. Tony has already stormed his own HYDRA base and marched back in triumph - he'll be just fine.

Bucky must be thinking something similar. When Steve concentrates, he can hear him mutter "Oh fuck, not this again." from his post at the back of the room.

Steve grins sheepishly and sends a wave of fondness over to him. He can't see Bucky's face, but he does see his shoulders shaking, and knows it's in laughter.

* * *

When Bucky sneaks into Tony's house that night, there's a tall, bald man with an eyepatch already there. Without any fanfare Bucky finds an optimal position and trains his gun on him, but doesn't shoot him on sight like Steve expected.

"I know who he is - he's the director of SHIELD." Bucky murmurs, barely audible, and Steve doesn't know if it's for his benefit or JARVIS's. His mouth is in a terse, unhappy line, and his eyes glitter dangerously as his finger flexes on the trigger.

Before Bucky can elaborate further Tony comes in, looking exhausted, and Fury steps forward and starts speaking to him, telling him about something called the 'Avenger Initiative'.

Tony blows him off as only Tony can, and while Steve thinks the genius has everything well in hand, Bucky's aim stays directly on Fury until he leaves.

"Remind me to do something about those security loopholes people keep finding, J." Tony grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face and pouring himself a drink.

"I'd start with the giant hole in the ceiling." Bucky says, stepping out into the living room and startling Tony into dropping his glass. "It's real easy to rappel down, if you put your mind to it."

He's speaking with forced casualness, his hands shoved into his pockets so Tony can't see them shaking. Tony's mouth drops open in shock, his eyes raking over Bucky and taking him in, but he doesn't move, and neither does Bucky.

For a long, agonizing second they stay like that, staring at each other, frozen.

Steve doesn't know who moves first. All he knows is between one breath and the next they're together, arms clinging and wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, faces tucked into each other's necks.

Tony is the first to speak.

"Where the hell have you been?!" he yells, his voice muffled by Bucky's shoulder, hands clenched in the fabric on Bucky's back.

Bucky, unwilling to pull away, grips Tony impossibly tighter, a hand coming up to cup the back of his head.

Tony positively melts into the touch, but pulls his head back to glare directly at Bucky's face.

"You don't write, you don't call…" he says, his eyes suspiciously wet.

Bucky sucks in a shuddering breath, his own eyes tearing up, and presses his forehead to Tony's.

"You never gave me your number," he whispers, brushing a thumb over Tony's lower lip and startling a tiny chortle out of Tony.

Bucky makes a small sound like a sob, and then presses his mouth to Tony's, swallowing up any other noise Tony can make while Tony tangles his fingers into Bucky's hair, pulling them even closer.

Steve quickly turns away to give them some privacy, his face flaming even as something warm that has nothing to do with embarrassment unfurls in his chest. He doesn't turn back around until he hears Bucky laughing.

"What?" Tony gasps incredulously, blinking dazedly with his arms still wrapped around Bucky.

"Nothin'," Bucky says, framing Tony's face with his hands, eyes sparkling.

When Steve realizes he's probably what Bucky is laughing at he scowls, and Bucky starts chuckling again.

"Shut up," Tony grumbles, dropping his forehead to Bucky's shoulder. "You can try to charm me with your wiles all you want, I'm still mad at you."

That sobers Bucky up a bit. "I'm sorry." he whispers, running his hand up and down Tony's back and pressing a kiss to Tony's hair.

"You just _left_ ," Tony says angrily, pulling back enough to pierce Bucky with an expression filled with hurt. "No goodbye, no note, nothing. You could have been dead in a ditch somewhere, for all I knew!"

"I know," Bucky sighs, biting his lip, then scowls and holds Tony back at arm's length, though Steve notes he doesn't let go of him completely. "But you're one to talk. What the hell were you thinking? Were you _trying_ to get yourself killed while I was gone?" he demands.

"I wore the helmet!" Tony protests indignantly. "Most of the time." he amends, earning an incredulous look from Bucky. "But that's not the point - I was the one who was attacked, and then I was defending the weak! What was I supposed to do, let Obie kill Pep and everyone - what is that look for, I don't like that look, are you laughing at me?"

Bucky had looked stern and exasperated when Tony had first started talking, but now he was wearing an expression somewhere between amused and constipated. His lips twitch under Tony's scrutiny, and Steve can't help but think the face seems very familiar, almost like a precursor to The Look.

Before Tony can get well and truly insulted Bucky sighs and pulls him into another hug, resting his chin atop Tony's head.

"Nothing, just...you remind me of some other stubborn punk too stupid to run away from the fight." he says fondly, to Steve's embarrassment and - okay, maybe pride, but only a little.

Tony stiffens and pushes against Bucky's chest, looking well on his way to giving him a piece of his mind when Bucky sighs again and lets him go, schooling his face into something serious.

"We have a lot to talk about." he says, gently but firmly. "Starting with SHIELD. Trusting them is a very, very bad idea. They're not who they say they are, not completely."

Tony blinks and fidgets, seeming oddly bereft now that he wasn't touching Bucky. "Yeah, I guess we do." he says carefully, brushing a hand through his hair and giving Bucky a grim nod. "I'm all ears, Brooklyn. Lay it on me."

Bucky smiles thinly. "It all sounds crazy. I don't know if you'll believe me. I don't believe half of it, and it happened to me."

Tony shrugs, and gives him the ghost of a grin. "I already think you're crazy, sweetheart. Hasn't stopped me yet."

Bucky chuckles self-deprecatingly. "You're going to want to sit down for some of this," he says, swallowing.

Tony reaches out and takes his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and nods.

Bucky takes a deep breath. "My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I was born in…"

* * *

Bucky tells Tony everything.

It takes hours, and Tony, to his credit, only interrupts when he wants Bucky to clarify something - and once to mutter a quick "Oh thank God, not my brother, then," which had earned a very strange look from Bucky.

Bucky looks exhausted by the time he's finished, slumped forward with his head in his hands, though Steve knows at least half of it is fear. Tony's face is carefully blank while he quietly processes, which is setting Bucky off even more. They'd moved to the workshop couch about halfway through, and though there's barely three inches of space between them they're not touching.

"That's a lot to take in," Tony acknowledges finally, exhaling loudly.

"I know." Bucky concedes, lifting his head from his hands and watching Tony out of the corner of his eye, like he's afraid to look at him directly.

"And it does sound crazy," Tony admits, tapping his arc reactor, a nervous habit Steve has noticed he's developed.

Bucky nods jerkily. "I told you it would be." he says, voice cracking. He's terrified, and since he's still not looking at Tony he doesn't see Tony's face soften, the expression carrying so many emotions that it takes Steve's breath away.

And he knows, before Tony even speaks, that Bucky's fears are unfounded.

"But I think we can handle it together." Tony says softly, reaching out and taking Bucky's hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

Bucky stops breathing, his lower lip trembling slightly as he slowly turns to face Tony. Steve can see the hope blooming in his eyes, his fear of being rejected slowly dissipating under the warmth of Tony's gaze.

"Yeah?" he breathes, squeezing Tony's hand back, a small, uncertain smile gracing his lips.

"Yeah," Tony assures, one corner of his mouth quirking up before his expression turns more serious. "I don't believe in fate, or a higher power, or whatever people call it." he says, waving his free hand. "But someone or something went to a lot of trouble to make sure we met, and you…" He takes a deep breath and swallows, looking down at their clasped hands. "I feel like I've known you my whole life." he whispers, open and vulnerable, reminding Steve of the kind, insecure little boy that used to draw him pictures and demand stories.

Bucky sighs, a long, relieved thing that seems to expel the rest of his doubt, and tugs Tony closer, pressing their foreheads together.

"You and me both, kid." he murmurs against Tony's mouth. "You and me both."

Steve swallows down a lump in his throat as something tight and heavy loosens in his chest, the warmth that had been threatening to overwhelm him since Bucky and Tony's reunion spreading and making his limbs feel heavier, but in a pleasant way.

He gasps once he recognizes the sensation, and realizes he feels sleepy - not tired, but truly sleepy - for the first time in decades. After years of restlessness the feeling is almost overwhelming, but that doesn't stop Steve from reveling in it, letting it wash over him like a warm, comfortable blanket.

He looks over at Bucky and Tony, wrapped up in each other, safe and sound and - most importantly to Steve - happy.

They had each other. They would be fine.

His work was done for now - surely it would be okay for him to rest for a little while.

So he smiles, and, feeling peaceful for the first time in nearly seventy years, Steve Rogers closes his eyes and rests.

* * *

 **AN** : Don't forget to check out the link to the awesome art that went with this story on my profile. :)

Thanks for reading!


End file.
